


Twisted Paths

by micehell



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: AU (Obi-Wan raised outside the Jedi), Drama, M/M, OCs (but not with too large a role), death of a main character (though neither QG or OW), harm to a child (but most of it offscreen), intimation of underage sex, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-17
Updated: 2005-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 69,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Obi-Wan's story from before the Jedi Apprentice books through to <i>The Phantom Menace</i>... twisted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I. Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> There are bits and pieces of pretty much every SW movie mixed in the story overall (plus I stole some names of places from Martha Wells' _Wheel of the Infinite_ , a character name from Flannery O'Connor, and lyrics from Bush, Lou Reed, Rush, and VAST (this is not a song fic, but someone performs on stage for some of the stolen lyrics and the VAST one is incorporated into some dialog)), but mostly it's just my (habitual) rewriting of canon. It'll still mirror canon in places, but it'll mostly twist off it rather oddly. ;) 
> 
> When I was first writing this, I wrote it in chapters, promising that I'd edit it again when I finished, but... well, yeah, that last part didn't happen. There isn't anything egregiously wrong with it, but there are minor errors that a better person than I would have fixed along the way. *snork*
> 
> Oh, and if you like word play, the chapter titles and summaries are often in that vein. ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xanatos meets some new people, and remembers an old one.

Xanatos warily looked over the two men standing in the door of his hotel room. He didn’t recognize them, but then he hadn’t expected to. People in their line of work were always a little hesitant to show their faces, so they had conducted all of their previous business over the comm. Though it wasn’t likely that anyone else but his potential new partners would be showing up at his door, especially at this hour of the night, he still felt the need to be cautious. “Who are you?”

The one on the left, a hulking man of little apparent intelligence, malice like a cloud around him, answered, “Yarl.” He pointed to his partner, a non-descript being, the type you forgot about the second you weren’t looking at them. “That’s Lato. You were expecting us.”

 

The voice was familiar enough, and he had been expecting them, so he let them pass, shutting the door behind them. Only the door wouldn’t shut. Looking down, Xanatos saw the obstruction. A young boy, maybe five years of age, was standing there looking at him with a very solemn expression. He didn’t wait for any acknowledgment from Xanatos, simply skittered past him until he was standing behind Yarl. 

Yarl turned around and slapped him. “Keep up from now on. We don’t have time to muck about with you.”

The boy took the blow without a sound; just a nod of the head to show he’d heard the admonishment. 

There’d been a time in Xanatos’ life when he would have objected to the way the child was being treated, but it was long past. Any anger he was feeling now was simply an echo of what he’d been. He repeated that thought to himself several times until he felt the anger die. Good, now he could get down to business.

Xanatos pointed at the table, manners showing through even in the midst of illegal dealings. “Please, sit down. Would you care for some refreshments?” The hotel room came with a well-stocked bar.

Yarl dropped into a chair. “Yeah, I’ll take an ale.” When Xanatos turned to fetch it, Yarl said, “Sit down. Obi-Wan can get it.” He turned to the boy. “Obi-Wan, make yourself useful, and get me some ale.”

Several minutes went by as they discussed delivery dates and prices. Yarl and Lato were trying to rob Xanatos blind, but that was one of the problems of dealing with thieves. Xanatos shook his head. “No, that’s far too much for far too little work on your….” He trailed off as he felt the disturbance in the Force.

Turning around to the source of the disturbance, he saw Obi-Wan reaching out to grasp the bottle of ale that was floating to him. Once he had it in his grasp, he placed it on the tray beside the glass he’d already put there, then carefully carried the tray over to Yarl.

Who took the glass and the bottle, and then promptly slapped Obi-Wan again. “What took you so long?”

“I’m s-sorry, sir. I couldn’t reach the bottle at first.”

Yarl slapped him again. “And what have I told you about using that mumbo-jumbo stuff? You know I don’t like it.”

Obi-Wan held his hand to his face, rubbing at the red mark there that would surely bruise. “Sorry. I just couldn’t reach it.”

Yarl pushed him away. “Well next time ask.” He turned back to Xanatos. “What you’re not factoring in here is our risk. That’s the thing that really costs.”

Xanatos ignored him for the moment. He also ignored the part of him that was saying not to be a fool as he reached out a hand for the boy. So strong to be able to do Force manipulation without training, but never to be trained to properly use it due to an accident of birth. If he’d only been born on a planet in the Republic, he could even now be playing with other children his age, safe and protected in the Temple.

Then Xanatos remembered how his own training there had turned out, and laughed at himself. Out loud, which caused Obi-Wan to shy away from him. He smiled at the boy. “Don’t worry, I was just laughing at myself. Why don’t you go and get me some water, and while you’re over there, I’m sure you could find a treat for yourself.”

Obi-Wan shyly returned the smile, but turned to look at Yarl before he moved to obey. Yarl was whispering something to Lato, though, and was paying him no attention. Obi-Wan’s smile turned more genuine, and he quickly moved to get the water and the treat. 

He soon returned to the table, bearing the water in one hand and some candy in the other, but before he could set the water down, Lato’s foot snaked out and tripped him. Water spilled all over the boy, and the candy dropped onto the floor. He made no move to retrieve the candy, however, instead moving to stand in front of Lato, his hands clenched behind him and his head hanging down.

A strange light seemed to glow from the otherwise unmemorable eyes as Lato looked at Obi-Wan. His voice was like ice as he asked, “Who should you have served first?”

Obi-Wan turned to Yarl, but he was intently staring at his own glass, and wouldn’t look up. Obi-Wan looked down again and said, “You, sir.”

Lato reached out and stroked a finger down the child’s face, causing him to flinch. “You sir, what?”

Shivering visibly now, Obi-Wan said, “I should have served you first, sir.”

Lato smiled, and it was a sight that Xanatos wished he’d never seen. He’d thought that Yarl had seemed surrounded by malice, but it was obvious now who the truly dangerous member of their group was. Lato stroked Obi-Wan’s face again. “And are you sorry you didn’t do as you should?”

Obi-Wan nodded, still looking down at his feet.

Lato moved his hand to the boy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure you are sorry.” He squeezed harder, fingers catching a pressure point, causing Obi-Wan to cry out. “And I’m sure you’ll make it up to me, won’t you?” He let go of the shoulder, reaching out once again to stroke the crumpled face.

Another nod, and a sniffle that was quickly muffled. 

“Go sit down and wait for us. We won’t be long, now.”

Not needing to be told twice, the boy sat on the chair that was furthest away from the table.

Lato turned back to Xanatos. “Sorry about the disturbance, but you know how children are”

Actually Xanatos didn’t know how children were, but he did know how psychopaths were, so he refrained from saying what was on his mind. “If he’s such a bother, why do you have him?”

Yarl looked at Lato, and then looked at Obi-Wan. His expression was resentful, and Xanatos could almost have been amused by the dynamics of the relationship between the three. Even Yarl’s voice was resentful. “Well, he’s a pain in the ass, not to mention he’s scary as hell with that little trick of his, but he does come in handy sometimes. You wouldn’t believe how many beings will trust someone just because they have a child with them. It’s like they think, ‘Hey, he has a kid, he must be a good guy.’ He’s a great gimmick.”

He looked again at Lato, but Lato didn’t appear to be paying attention to any of them, so Yarl continued. “His mother was a whore I knew, and she used to lend us the kid from time to time, but then she died a couple of weeks back.”

Xanatos heard another muffled sniffle from Obi-Wan’s direction, but Yarl apparently didn’t, for he continued. “He’s kind of an imposition, but Lato here said he wanted him, so he’s with us now. And if we’re done talking about the stupid kid, perhaps we could get back to business.”

And they did, though one part of Xanatos’ mind remained tuned to Obi-Wan. Remembering Lato’s disturbing attentions to Obi-Wan’s face, and the ominous idea of Obi-Wan making up for his behavior to him, Xanatos was afraid that he could guess why Lato wanted the child around. Xanatos had already noticed that even though it was Yarl who kept slapping Obi-Wan, the kid still stayed near him, avoiding Lato assiduously. He could see why.

But he couldn’t understand why it was bothering him. He’d seen far worse in his life. Surely, he was far too cynical at this point to be bothered by the plight of one child?

A little voice inside his head, that he usually ignored completely, whispered, “Used to protect children, you did.” Damn it, why was he hearing Yoda now. It was far too late for a conscience. And he didn’t want one anymore. The price of having one was too high.

When he’d left the Jedi, he’d found out that far too many people in the Republic felt fear, suspicion, even outright hostility when it came to Force users. Had found out that those fears and suspicions were only held off by the mystique of the Jedi, and without that shield… well, that’s where the outright hostility came in.

Because of this, business opportunities, legal ones anyway, had been scarce for him. And it wasn’t as if he could hide what he was, not in the Republic, at least, where anyone could look up his basic information on the public access net. He’d become so desperate that he’d gone back to Telos, but the father’s scandalous, even treasonous, actions there had made life for the son even more difficult than it was off of Telos. So he’d left, and been left with only two real choices: to leave the Republic worlds, or to get a new identity. And, at that time, he’d not been much in favor of heading off into the lawless Outer Rim. At that time.

So he’d bought a new identity. Which was somewhat deceitful. Maybe even underhanded. And certainly illegal. But, he’d reasoned, he’d only done it for the best of reasons: he’d needed to survive. Xanatos shook his head, remembering how difficult that first false step had been for him. But then, the first step off the cliff was always the hardest. The rest of his fall had come much faster, and far too easily.

Perhaps he had too much of his father in him. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to make it as a Jedi. Or perhaps he was just making excuses, and it was just a weakness in himself. Whatever it was, he’d followed along his path, not noticing, or perhaps not caring, that it was growing darker until it was too late to change it. Or perhaps that was just another excuse. 

First he’d had to learn to put his morals on hold. Then he’d learned to get rid of them altogether. And eventually, he’d headed off to the lawless Outer Rim without a second thought. 

Which all explained how he came to be here doing business with these two specimens. Explained why he was going to keep doing business with them, regardless of what they did to the child. 

Wasn’t he?

“Used to protect children, you did.”

He had. And he’d wanted to. The day his master had chosen him to be his apprentice had been the happiest day of his life. All he’d wanted to do was to study hard, to serve faithfully, and to be the best Jedi he could. It had meant everything to him.

How, then, had he gotten here?


	2. II. Precedent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xanatos gets a master, and loses one.

He was nearing thirteen and he still hadn’t been chosen yet. Even his native confidence was finding it hard not to read something into that. He knew he was smart. Strong in the Force. Physically adept. In other words, the perfect padawan. It would be a waste of resources for them to send him to the Agricorps when his birthday came.

Not that his father would let him stay if it came to that. He liked to remind Xanatos, a little too often if the son were consulted on the matter, that he came from wealth and power, and he was giving it up to be nothing more than a public servant. But while Xanatos sometimes admitted, at least to himself, that he had much of his father’s arrogance in him, he really did want to be a Jedi. Wanted to serve that public that his father looked so down upon. Even sheltered in the Temple, he’d seen enough injustice to be horrified. He would one day help to put a stop to as much of it as he could.

If they’d let him. 

He still had a chance. It wasn’t his birthday yet. And Master Jinn had seemed to be watching him during saber practice yesterday. Surely that was a good sign? He just knew that he could serve well with Master Jinn, for the master was a true diplomat, and yet a strong fighter, too. And he was pretty hot. Xanatos blushed at that thought. Not that that made any difference to him. Ok, it would be better to have a hot master than someone like, say, Yoda, but at this point his master could look and smell like a Hutt and he’d be happy. Just as long as he had one. 

He sighed, his musings offering no real comfort. He would just have to keep working hard… and maybe cut down on the arrogance a little… and he’d be chosen for sure. After all, he still had a month left. 

A month. Xanatos sighed again. And then groaned when he realized that he’d been brooding too long, and that he was going to be late for his class if he didn’t hurry. He might only have a month left, but it would be stupid to lose what chance he had due to delinquency. Such was his hurry to avoid that fate, that he never saw the tall Jedi master before he plowed right into him, knocking both of them to the floor. Way to show you’re in touch with the Force, you idiot, he thought as he picked himself up. 

He bowed and said, “Please forgive me, Master. I was in a hurry, and failed to be aware of my surroundings.”

“A serious flaw, to be sure. But a pardonable one, also,” came the amused reply.

Xanatos bowed again. “Thank you, Master. I’ll be on my way, then.” But a soft touch of the Force held him back. He looked up into the dark eyes of the regal man before him and was transfixed by a vision. He saw himself with a padawan braid, fighting by this man’s side. Working with him. Helping the people of the galaxy. His dream. But then the vision swirled with darkness, descending into fear and pain. A life wasted. His nightmare.

A comforting hand fell on his shoulder. “Be mindful of the present, and the future will take care of itself. Don’t let yourself be caught up in possibilities, but rather in what is.”

Xanatos was still shaken by the vision, but he nodded. “Yes, Master. Did you see…?”

“Yes, I shared your vision. And though I don’t believe in following them, I do believe that a part of it was correct.” He knelt down on one knee, putting them at eye level. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, and I think you would make a very fine apprentice. Would you do me the honor of accepting me as your master?”

The joy overwhelmed the remnants of distress. He wouldn’t have to go to Agricorps. He would be a Jedi. “Oh, yes, Master. I would like that very much.”

He followed his new master down the hallway, almost floating in his happiness, and thereby missed seeing Master Qui-Gon Jinn looking sadly after them.

::::::::::

He looked at his hands. Strong hands, capable. But covered in blood. So many dead. So many of them children. 

Xanatos looked around at the destruction surrounding him. The fighting had destroyed buildings for miles around the blast sights. The mortar dust had become red clay from the blood of the victims trapped in the rubble. It had taken days to get them all out. The living and the dead.

He thought about taking a shower, but couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. He didn’t have anything left inside. He worked years, trying to do his best. Studying, working, living hard, just to stop things like this from happening. And yet here he was, a failure, and a Jedi no more.

He and his master had come to this planet, Zerin, to try to resolve a civil war. The situation when they’d arrived had been much worse than they’d been warned about, but they’d had to try all the same. But it was like fighting the tide, and they’d lost ground far more often than they gained it. 

Xanatos had felt a dark vision fluttering around his head. Death and pain, in great quantities, were close at hand. He’d known better than to talk to his master about it, however, he’d heard the ‘live in the moment’ lecture more than once and had no desire to hear it again. But he had asked his master why the Council didn’t send more help; the situation was obviously beyond the scope of two people, regardless of how strong in the Force they were. He had been assured that his master had apprised the Council of what was going on, and that they’d decided that the two of them were enough for anything that might arise. There were crises all over the galaxy, and Zerin, which was not a member of the Republic, was just not important enough to assign any more people to.

So Xanatos had nodded, and done what was needed, but he’d brooded. Something he’d done with increasing regularity over the years. He’d wanted to be a Jedi to help people, but he was finding it hard to keep his zeal going in the face of so much failure. Oh, sometimes he and his master won the day, but not as often as they should. And not as often as they could, if they’d only had more help. Yet whenever he talked to his master about it, it was always the same news. The Council said no.

He’d come to believe the Council was made up of fools, dangerous fools who needed to leave their white tower every once and a while and see what life was really like. Their assigning he and his master to Zerin certainly hadn’t inspired Xanatos with confidence in their judgment. The war being fought on Zerin was against an ages old monarchy, with the populace divided by those who wanted it gone at all cost, and those who feared the change that represented. Sending a man like his master, who made no effort to hide his own title, and who could give Xanatos himself lessons in arrogance, was hardly the best choice that could have been made.

And yet the Council was made up of Jedi who had years of service behind them, and all had strong connections to the Force. If, with their collected wisdom, they felt their actions were right, and Xanatos thought them wrong, well, then maybe his connection to the Force wasn’t what he thought it was. Or maybe he had no ability with seeing the larger picture. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a Jedi at all.

It was while he’d been wrestling with his crisis of faith, both in the Council, in the Force, and in himself, that everything had blown up. Literally. Strikes were made in cities across the planet, but the capital had been hardest hit. And the King’s castle, with the King and all his family, including seven children, had been entirely destroyed. 

The destruction did what Xanatos and his master could not; it stopped the war. Even those who’d set the bombs had been ill prepared for the horror and the loss that followed. Working side by side, the warring factions had spent sleepless days and nights scouring the ruins looking for survivors, and then later giving a second, more usual, burial for the dead.

Xanatos had worked with them. He’d been working when his master had come and told him it was time to leave. He’d been working when his master said that the council felt their job was done, as they’d been sent to stop a war, and the war was stopped. He’d been working when he’d told his master that he wasn’t going with him, that he didn’t want to be a Jedi anymore. 

He’d been pulling a tiny body out of the rubble when he’d said, “I feel empty inside, like I have no connection to the Force at all. I thought this was the path for me, but I can’t seem to make sense of what it is that the Council expects us to do. It used to make sense, or at least it seemed to, when I was younger and at the temple, but the universe is different outside those sheltering walls. I’ve lost the sense of belonging that I used to feel. It seems I wasn’t cut out to be a Jedi, so I’ll have to find out what I am cut out for.”

He’d then turned and left, looking for more small bodies, and was too far away to clearly hear what his master… no, what Master Dooku had said as he’d left, though it had sounded like, “All goes according to plan.” But, then, he’d been too busy working to care.

::::::::::

Xanatos was too busy working to care. He had a living to make and he couldn’t be worried about the past. Or about the kid. He’d given up being a Jedi, and he wasn’t going down that road again. And the vision that was hovering in his head, showing him death and pain could just go and hang for all he cared.

The meeting was over, the others were long gone, and he’d almost made himself believe that it was over, when he felt a wave of fear and pain wash over him. Not his own, though. Obi-Wan’s.

He was already running when he heard his name screamed through a link he hadn’t even known they shared. Helpless to do anything else but say he was coming, he ignored every criminal, civil, or physics’ law there was in an effort to get to Obi-Wan before he was too late. Again.


	3. III. Portent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xanatos gets there too late, and Obi-Wan uses a little Force.

Xanatos could feel the presence that had drawn him here, behind the door at the end of the hall. That the pull was still there was a relief, but the terror he’d felt before hadn’t dissipated any. He shoved the door open with a wave of the Force, knocking it off its hinges, and then ran into the room. 

The first thing he saw was a bottle flying right for his head. He ducked, and then ducked again as he realized that multiple objects were whirling past. The entire room was a vortex of flying debris, and at its center was a small boy. He stood in awe for a second, amazed by the power being wielded by an untrained child. But a close call with a flying glass brought him back to the problem at hand. 

He could see Lato lying on the ground near Obi-Wan, and Yarl was huddled in a corner with his hands over his head, but they could both wait. The first thing he needed to do was get to Obi-Wan. 

Xanatos managed to move his way through the room without being hit too many times. He reached out and grabbed Obi-Wan by his shoulders, but the boy didn’t respond to his presence at all. He tried shaking him a little, hoping to break his concentration, but the flying objects continued their frenetic dance. 

“Obi-Wan!” The shout was as loud as he could make it, but, still, nothing.

This time he tried across the bond. ‘Obi-Wan!’

With a loud clatter, everything that had been flying came crashing to the floor, as Obi-Wan looked up and asked, “What?”

Xanatos couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, it was nothing. I just wanted to see if you were Ok.”

With a blank expression on his face, Obi-Wan looked at Xanatos. At the room. At Lato lying on the floor. Then tears began pooling in his lashes, and his face started to crumple, but Xanatos pulled him into a tight embrace before the first sob broke free.

Xanatos was unsure of what to do at this point. Protecting people was what he’d once trained for, not comforting them. And maybe that was another failure on the part of the Jedi, but it certainly didn’t help him now. He knelt down, so that he could pull Obi-Wan in close, resting the boy’s head on his shoulder. He felt the sobs shake the small body, and felt helpless in the face of such distress. 

A couple of random images projected from Obi-Wan let him know that the boy was looking at Lato’s body lying behind them. Not wanting to deal with that problem just yet, he turned them sideways, so that he could see Lato, but Obi-Wan couldn’t. Lato was definitely dead, though he checked with the Force, just to make sure.

Several objects in the room had been sharp and were lodged fairly deeply into various parts of the body, including a souvenir dagger that had gone straight through one eye. Xanatos thought that that was yet one more reason to avoid accumulating knickknacks.

The sobs were dying down now, and Xanatos hoped that Obi-Wan would be up to telling him what had happened. Yarl was still in his corner, shaking worse than the boy, but Xanatos didn’t think he’d make a very good witness, anyway.

He pushed Obi-Wan back a little, looking him over for injuries. Some more bruising on his face and arms, and some deep welts on his back and chest, probably made by a belt, seemed to be the worst of it. The tunic was torn beyond repair, but the pants didn’t appear to be touched, for which Xanatos was immensely grateful. At least Lato hadn’t been able to do too much damage before he’d been… stopped.

Obi-Wan’s sobs had died down to periodic snuffles, and he’d tried to wipe his face, but he’d only managed to smear it further. Resigned, Xanatos used his own tunic to clean up the tears and snot. He missed his Jedi robes at the moment. They would have been much more useful for this task, and they didn’t cost anywhere near as much as his very expensive tunic. But then if he’d had his robes, he wouldn’t be here now for Obi-Wan.

He shook off his thoughts, needing to concentrate on the current problem. “Obi-Wan, how much pain are you in? Do you need me to take you to the clinic?”

Obi-Wan didn’t even think about it, just grasped Xanatos’ tunic tightly and fiercely shook his head. “I don’t want to go.”

Xanatos sighed. He really was out of his depth here. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t leave you there. I just want to know how badly you’re hurt.”

But Obi-Wan just stubbornly shook his head.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to change the boy’s mind, he decided to try his hand at a little Force healing. It had been a while, but it might at least diminish some of the pain. While he worked, he asked, “Obi-Wan, do you think you can tell me what happened?”

The boy looked at him seriously, his eyes far too old in such a young face, and nodded. “When we got home, Lato said I had to make it up to him. You know, for not serving him first. You remember?” He looked to see if Xanatos understood, and continued when he nodded. “It wasn’t too bad at first. He’d hit me before. But then he used his belt. I tried not to cry, because he didn’t like that, but it really hurt, and I couldn’t help it.”

Tears were forming again, but Xanatos brushed them away before they could fall. He’d known something was going to happen, and yet he’d just let them leave. He was almost as much to blame for this as Lato. He suppressed the violence in his thoughts, as their focal point was already dead, but he strongly wished that he’d been the one to kill the bastard instead of Obi-Wan. His only option now was to try to undo as much of the damage as he could. “I know it hurt. And there was nothing wrong with crying. Lato was wrong to hit you, and he was wrong to be mad at your tears. He was wrong, not you. Do you understand that?”

Obi-Wan sniffed a little, but nodded. “Mama was never mad when I cried, and she never hit me. And she said I should try to get help if anyone touched me like Lato did. But I didn’t know who would help. But I could hear you, sort of, and you gave me the candy, so I called you. And then you said you were coming, but I waited, and you weren’t here, and he wouldn’t stop, so I just tried to make him, but he wouldn’t, and I….” He broke off, burying his face in Xanatos’ tunic. “I just wanted my mama.” 

Xanatos held him tight, and let the tears fall. It wasn’t as if the child didn’t have a reason to cry. He felt a strong urge to kick Lato’s dead body, but stifled it. 

After several minutes, Obi-Wan managed to stop the tears again, though he was hiccoughing rather badly. Xanatos settled that with a touch of the Force, and he was pleased to see that the bruises and welts had diminished with his healing. So he still had the talent, even after not having used it for so long. 

Obi-Wan fingered one of the fading welts, looking at it quizzically. Xanatos smiled. “I used the Force to make them a little better. Just like you used it to bring the ale bottle to you.”

“The Force? Is that what it is? Mama told me some stories about that. About Jedi Knights. Are you a Jedi Knight?”

He smiled a little wistfully at that. “No, I’m not.” He could have stopped there. It was an honest answer. But something inside him wouldn’t let him by with anything but the whole truth. “I almost was, though. I wonder now if I should have been.”

Obi-Wan frowned, not understanding where Xanatos’ sorrow came from. He hugged his arms tightly around the man, remembering how much it had comforted him, and smiled when he felt the feeling dissipate.

Xanatos brushed a hand across the boy’s hair. “Thank you. I needed that.” 

It was past time for them to leave. They’d have to go back to his place to get his money and id, but they couldn’t stay there long. Regardless of what had happened here, he was sure that some security patrol officer would try to make it look like thieves falling out, and Xanatos had no desire to spend any more time on this planet than absolutely necessary.

He pushed Obi-Wan back a little, preparing to rise, when a warning in the Force, accompanied by Obi-Wan’s cry, made him swing his arm up and behind him. He heard a satisfying crack as he jumped to his feet and turned to meet Yarl. The man had a mark on his face that was sure to bruise. Xanatos noted that it was in the same place that Yarl had hit the boy and smiled.

Yarl’s face was contorted with anger. “So you’re a stinking Jedi. I should have known. Always acting like you were too good to be doing any business with us. Well you’ll regret messing with me.”

Xanatos just smirked. “I didn’t act like I was too good to do business with you. I was too good to do business with you. And I regretted having anything to do with you pretty much from the moment of having anything to do with you.”

Yarl lunged at him, what little sense he had overwhelmed in his grief and his anger. “I’ll kill you. And the fucking brat, too.”

Xanatos easily avoided the lunge, knocking the man to the ground as he passed. “You mentioned earlier that you don’t like ‘mumbo-jumbo’ stuff, so unless you want to see what someone who was trained to use it can do, I would suggest you lay off.”

Yarl looked frightened at that, but though his fear kept his ass on the floor, it didn’t keep his words in his mouth. “Bastard. I told Lato you were trouble. And the fucking kid, too. But he just thought he knew better than anyone. Paying more attention to the whore’s son than to me. Took the little brat in, and how does he repay him? He kills him. Well, Jedi help or not, he won’t get away with it. The security patrol will come soon, and they won’t let you get away with it!” He turned to Obi-Wan. “You hear me, brat? They’re going to lock you up for what you did.”

Obi-Wan was starting to shake, but Xanatos pulled him in close, sending calm thoughts across the bond. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. What you did was self-defense, and no one’s going to lock you up. You’re going to come with me.”

Obi-Wan gave him a shaky smile and nodded, but Xanatos could still feel the worry.

And Yarl wasn’t done. “Don’t you believe it, kid. Even if he uses some kind of trick to get you out of trouble with the security patrol, Lato has a lot of friends that’ll make sure the two of you pay.”

While Xanatos didn’t believe for a minute that Lato had a lot of friends, he did believe that the scavengers were going to be out in force soon. And with Yarl and his knowledge of Xanatos’ business to egg them on, it would make things difficult for Xanatos and Obi-Wan for a while. It was a problem, but Xanatos knew exactly how to handle it.

Except that a pair of solemn eyes were looking to him. And a mind that had already faced too much trauma over too short a time was connected with his. If he killed Yarl now, there was no way he could keep it from Obi-Wan. And there was no way he could do that in front of Obi-Wan, who was still dealing with having killed Lato.

He sighed. There was probably a way to block out the bond, but he had no experience with the things. What he’d shared with his master hadn’t been anything like this. Maybe that was why… no, he didn’t have time to think about that now, and he didn’t have time to play with the bond now, either. He’d just have to let Yarl go, and hope for the best.

And if he was going to try to get Obi-Wan into the Temple, he should at least start trying to act like a Jedi again. Having killed someone in front of a child was hardly likely to make the Council any more ready to listen to his thoughts on what was best for said child. 

Ignoring Yarl’s continuing rants, he turned to Obi-Wan. “We’re leaving. If there’s anything here you wish to take with you, get it now. We won’t be coming back.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and ran to get his stuff. Which turned out to be nothing more than another tunic and a holocube. Xanatos helped him put the tunic on, and placed the holocube in his pocket. “I’ll carry this so it doesn’t get lost, all right?”

Obi-Wan smiled and headed for the door. “Let's go.”

From tears to smiles, all under an hour. Xanatos wondered if he was really prepared for this. But there was no choice. Or no other one that he was willing to make. He turned to Yarl. “You owe your life to that boy. I would have killed you without a second thought if it hadn’t been for him. But if you want to keep the life I’ve spared for his sake, then you’ll leave us alone, because I won’t be as merciful a second time.”

Xanatos followed Obi-Wan out the broken door and paused in the hallway. “You’re sure you have everything?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, let's go.” And holding the boy’s hand, he headed for his hotel room, muttering under his breath, “I have a bad feeling about this.”


	4. IV. Impulsion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's hard to get away.

Two security patrol officer were stationed at the front of the hotel, and two more were at its rear entrance. Xanatos didn’t even want to think about how many were inside. They’d never be able to retrieve his money and ID like this.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about this. Fuck!” It was said with true feeling and at some volume.

“Yeah, fuck!” Said at even greater volume, and with all the joy that only children can give to curse words.

Xanatos looked down at Obi-Wan and shook his head. Oh, the Council was not going to be happy about how he was handling this, he could just tell. “Obi-Wan, please don’t say that word. It’s not appropriate for children.”

Obi-Wan nodded his head solemnly. “What does propriate mean?”

Xanatos sighed. This was obviously some kind of cosmic payback for the way he’d been living his life the past few years. “It means…” he trailed off, wondering how to explain this to a child. He saw more security patrol officers arrive, and decided to keep all explanations short. “It means don’t say it because I said so.”

Obi-Wan nodded again, seeming to accept this dictum. Xanatos pulled him along with him back into the shadows, thinking about their next move. He wasn’t going to be able to get his things with this much attention on him. Better to leave them here, and concentrate on getting off planet. Once they were some place safe, he’d try to hack into his accounts, or he’d think of something else to do. But they needed to get away.

He led them in the direction of the spaceport, using back roads and indirect paths to avoid any security patrols along the way. It was going to be a long trip, and he knew it would be hard on the child, but he didn’t dare risk any kind of public transportation.

They’d only gone about a kilometer when they got lucky. On a nearly deserted back street they saw a lone man leaning against a speeder. Ok, the speeder had seen better days and so had the man, but Xanatos was sure that he could convince him to take them to the spaceport. Force or the Force, either one would work in a pinch.

As they approached him, the man looked at them warily, but didn’t move from his perch. Xanatos smiled his best salesman smile and nodded. “My son and I have had a little accident. We need to get to the spaceport, but I’ve misplaced my wallet. I wonder if you might consider taking us there?” He laid a Force compulsion on the words, hoping that that would be enough.

The man smiled, showing a load of rotting teeth, and held out his hand, showing the blaster that was in it. “Spaceport, huh? I can imagine that’s where you’d want to go. And you’re free to go there… for a small fee. For once Yarl was right. He told us you’d try to get to the spaceport, but that you would be too wary to take the main routes. And here you are.”

Xanatos knew it was probably hopeless, but he tried to talk his way out of the trap. “I’m sorry, but you’ve mistaken us for someone else.”

The man shook his head. “He told us to look out for a tall, dark headed guy with a little boy. Don’t see too many of those out at this time of night. No, you’re who we’re looking for, and you’re the one Yarl said had a lot of money on him. So just hand it over, and we can all be on our way.”

Xanatos sighed, wondering how he’d walked into this. He must be more tired than he knew. He pushed Obi-Wan behind him, just in case, and pulled the blaster out of the man’s hand, using the Force much more successfully this time. He smiled at the man’s stunned expression, rotting teeth and all.

But the smile disappeared when the Force screamed a warning just a second before a blaster shot went right through where he’d been and into his erstwhile assailant. Xanatos dived into a nearby doorway, keeping Obi-Wan underneath him, but he heard no more shots.

He should have paid attention when the man kept saying we instead of I, but it didn’t matter now. He reached out with the Force, trying to spot who’d fired, but there were many people inside the surrounding buildings, and nothing to tell him which one was trying to shoot them.

He took a moment to look at Obi-Wan, trying to see if he’d been hurt in all the excitement, but the boy appeared all right, if a bit shaken. He stared at Xanatos, but didn’t say anything.

Xanatos ran a hand over the child’s soft hair, trying to comfort him without making too much noise, and Obi-Wan gave him a tentative smile in return. Too much was happening too fast for the boy, who, strength in the Force aside, was only five. Xanatos needed to get them off this planet, and soon, before anything else happened.

But it was too late, as something else happened, namely a chunk of the doorway over their heads exploding as the shooter fired again. But as close as it came, it was a mistake on the shooter’s part, as Xanatos could now tell where the shot had come from. With Force enhanced speed, he stood and fired, dropping the shooter without having ever seen him clearly.

And he didn’t take the time to investigate, either. Security patrol would be along at any minute, and they needed to get as far away as possible. Searching the body of the first man, he found the keys to the speeder, and had them out of there less than two minutes after the last shot.

They’d gone only a quarter of the way when the engine gave a rough splutter and quit, dropping the vehicle down into an otherwise deserted street. Xanatos just sat there for a minute, unable to believe his run of luck. But then belief kicked in, and he slammed the steering wheel with a heartfelt cry of “Fuck!” He turned to look at Obi-Wan, who was staring at him quizzically, and said, “You still don’t get to say that word.”

Obi-Wan nodded and sighed. He looked away from Xanatos, but he could feel how upset the boy was through the bond.

“What is it, Obi-Wan? Are you hurt?”

He looked back at Xanatos, blinking away the tears that were trying to form. “No. I just wondered… if all this bad stuff is happening because I killed Lato.”

Xanatos was stunned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because Yarl said I’d pay for killing him. And now we’re running from the security patrol, and those guys wanted to shoot us, so I thought maybe it was because I was bad.”

Xanatos shook his head, amazed at the childish logic. Though, in a way, Obi-Wan was right, in that Yarl had definitely made things harder for them because of Lato’s death, but the boy certainly didn’t need that thought on top of everything else. “You aren’t bad, Obi-Wan. Lato was bad, and you did what you had to in order to stop him from hurting you. You stopped him from being bad to you, that’s all. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan gave only a tremulous nod, but Xanatos could feel some of the upset fade. It would have to do for now. He’d make sure Obi-Wan truly understood him later. 

“Well, now we have to figure out a way to get to the spaceport without attracting the attention of anymore guys like those last two. Come on, though, let’s keep moving while I think.” Xanatos set a quick pace down the street, looking back to make sure Obi-Wan could keep up.

His face screwing up in thought, Obi-Wan hurried after him. “Well, can you use the Force to make us invisible?”

Xanatos laughed. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”

“Can you make us fly?”

Another laugh. “No, not really.”

“Can you make us look like something else? Like maybe a bird, or a droid.”

Xanatos started to laugh again, but instead drew to a stop in front of a store window. “Obi-Wan, you’re a genius.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Ok. Um, what’s a genius?”

Staring at the clothes on display in the store window, Xanatos said, “Someone who’s going to help us get to the spaceport without being stopped.” He looked around to see if anyone was watching, but they were alone on the street. He smashed the blaster into the window, reaching in the hole to grab some of the clothes.

Pulling Obi-Wan down the street, and away from any alarms that might be ringing, he found them a small park to duck into. He took a scarf from the pile of clothes and wrapped it around his head, making sure his hair was fully covered. Then he handed the rest of the clothes to the boy, and said, “Put these on.”

He looked around to make sure that no one had followed them, and then, satisfied that they were alone, he turned back to Obi-Wan. Who was just standing there, staring at the clothes. “Hurry up, put those on.”

And Obi-Wan, who had obeyed every other instruction Xanatos had given, shook his head. “No. These are girl’s clothes.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why it will work. Yarl told everyone to look for a man with dark hair traveling with a little boy, not a man with a scarf traveling with a little girl. It won’t fool anyone up close, but it ought to throw them off just long enough for us to get by them, anyway.”

Obi-Wan shook his head again. “No. I’m not dressing like a girl.”

The fact that the boy was arguing with him was, in one way, a good sign. It meant that Obi-Wan trusted that Xanatos wasn’t going to hit him. On the other hand, it meant that he felt safe enough to argue, and they just didn’t have time. Plus, Xanatos wasn’t sure he would win, never having argued with a five-year-old before. It was probably better to try a different track. “If you put the clothes on, I’ll get you a bag of candy when we get off this planet.”

Obi-Wan considered. “Two bags of candy.”

Xanatos smiled. Well, after all, the child had been living with thieves, something was bound to rub off. “Fine, two bags of candy. Now hurry up.”

After he had finished dressing in the overly frilly clothes, Obi-Wan stared up at him with a put-upon expression. “You better pay up when we get away.”

Xanatos played with Obi-Wan’s hair, trying to make it look feminine. The boy was certainly pretty enough to pass for a girl. Not that he was foolish enough to tell Obi-Wan that. “Let’s go. And try not to draw any more attention to yourself than is necessary.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “You’re an adult walking with a little girl really late at night when most people are in bed.” He yawned, and laughed again. “See. Everyone who sees us is going to look, and most of them will probably think you bought me for the night.”

He’s only five, Xanatos thought, and shuddered. Only five. Well, his mother had been a whore, and one who’d been lending the child out to Lato and Yarl, even before she died. It would only make sense that he had far too good a grasp of the worst parts of human nature. And he was right about everyone looking. They weren’t going to pass unnoticed, but at least people would be mistaken about why they were out. 

By means of another stolen vehicle, they managed to make it to the spaceport. Xanatos just hoped that the Council never questioned Obi-Wan too closely about anything they had done.

He managed to get them past any more of Yarl’s hunters that might have been around, and the ever-present security patrol, and into the spaceport proper. It was then just a matter of finding the right kind of captain. Which, considering his lack of funds, was one who was easily persuaded by the Force.

He found a Corellian that was susceptible to both the Force and to a promise of more money later, and Xanatos relaxed for the first time in what seemed like forever. They were finally going to get to leave.

Telling them to be on board in ten minutes, or he was leaving without them, the captain went ahead to prepare for take-off. Xanatos, by slight of hand, managed to get them a little bit to eat and drink, and then picked up a drooping Obi-Wan in his arms, heading for the ship. He was feeling every one of his years, and was grateful when their ship came into view. They were almost there when Yarl’s voice came form behind them. “I knew I’d find you here.”

Xanatos turned, seeing Yarl’s hulking form flanked by four more men cast from the same mold. Not what they needed, not with their goal in sight. He wanted to set Obi-Wan down, to put him behind him, but he didn’t want to set Yarl off. Hoping that intimidation might work on a man he knew to be a coward, he said, “Leave now, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

“I told you I’d make you pay.” Yarl looked at Obi-Wan. “Now I see why you wanted to help the kid. Got yourself a little dress-up doll, now, don’t you?”

Calling upon all of his training, both as a Jedi and as a businessman, Xanatos held onto his temper, but only just. That someone who had been friends with Lato would have the nerve to accuse anyone else of perversion was too much.

His anger must have leaked through on the bond, because Obi-Wan patted his chest, and smiled at him. Xanatos felt the boy send him reassurance along the bond. Smiling back, Xanatos managed to release his anger to the Force, something he hadn’t tried in far too long. 

With his anger gone, he could think clearly about what he needed to do. Once the ship was underway, Yarl would just be an unpleasant memory, so they just needed to delay him and his ‘friends’ long enough to get on board. And they needed to get on board soon, or else they would be left behind.

Before he could do anything, though, the captain called out from the ship, “Yarl. What’s scum like you doing here?”

Yarl snarled at the man. “None of your business, Solo. Just take off.”

Using the distraction to move closer to the ship, Xanatos turned his side towards Yarl and his men, putting Obi-Wan further away from them. He could now see both Solo and Yarl, and it was obvious from their expressions that they didn’t like each other. Xanatos was trying to come up with ways to use that to his advantage, but it turned out to be unnecessary. 

Solo sneered at Yarl, “Anything that pisses you off, I’ll make my business. You and Lato still owe me for that bad spice deal, but I’m willing to take something else in exchange for money. Like your head.”

Yarl seemed unimpressed. “You talk big, but I’m the one with the guns.”

Solo just smiled, and called into the ship, “Whenever you’re ready.” One of the ship’s cannons let off a volley, dropping one of Yarl’s men in a sizzling heap. Seeing this, the rest of the men took off, leaving Yarl standing alone against the rest of them.

Solo nodded at Xanatos. “I’m ready to take off. Go get strapped in.” 

Under Solo’s watchful eye, Xanatos made his way up the ramp. Yarl wasn’t willing to take on a cannon, but he couldn’t resist yelling after them, “Don’t think this is over. Lato was all I had and that kid took him away. One day I’ll make him pay, and I’ll make sure you do, too.”

The hatch closing cut off him off. Xanatos sighed, glad it was over. He saw Solo staring at Obi-Wan, and held him tighter, not sure what was going on. 

“The kid really kill Lato?”

Obi-Wan clutched tighter at Xanatos, turning his head into his shoulder. Xanatos squeezed him, sending calm along the bond. “Yes, he killed him. But it was self-defense.”

Solo nodded. “I would imagine. Good job, kid. You did us all a favor.” With that he took off for the cockpit, reminding them to strap in as he left.

Relieved to finally be sitting, Xanatos got them both strapped in. “Are you Ok, Obi-Wan? Did what the captain said upset you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, not looking at him, but Xanatos decided that was good enough. It was too soon to put that kind of trauma behind him, and the boy felt calm enough for now.

Obi-Wan yawned, his eyes drooping now that he wasn’t moving. “Where are we going, Master?”

“Well, for right now, we’re headed for Laril, but eventually we’ll be going to Coruscant, and…” Xanatos stopped, as he realized what Obi-Wan had called him. “Why did you call me Master?”

He was nearly asleep now, but Obi-Wan smiled. “That’s what my head calls you.”

Xanatos looked at the boy. His head? Maybe he was remembering some story his mother had told him. 

Or maybe it was the bond. But Xanatos couldn’t allow it to be a training bond. Even if the Temple took Obi-Wan in, they would never take Xanatos back. Would they? No, no point even thinking about it. He was taking Obi-Wan to Coruscant, but then he was leaving again. 

“Obi-Wan, I want you to listen. You mustn’t call me Master. I’m taking you to the Jedi temple on Coruscant, and I’m going to try to get you in. And if they take you, then one day you might have a master and become a Jedi, but I will not be that master.”

Obi-Wan yawned again. “Ok, Master. And you still owe me two bags of candy.”

Xanatos was going to explain it again, but he saw that the boy was asleep. It could wait. The trip from this far out on the Rim to Coruscant was months, and that was on a direct flight with a fast ship. They’d have plenty of time for him to teach Obi-Wan a few things. Some simple meditations, a little bit of history, and not to call him master.

He smiled, looking at the picture that Obi-Wan made. He really did look pretty in these clothes. Xanatos would get him his candy. And he’d get him his chance to be a Jedi. Anything after that was up to the Force.


	5. V. Adversities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trials, old and new.

As he completed the kata, Obi-Wan’s face was glowing; part exertion, part pride of accomplishment. It had been a difficult kata, and he had performed it perfectly. 

He heard Xanatos say, “Good job,” and couldn’t resist the smug smile that played across his lips, though it wavered with the addendum, “It certainly took you long enough to get it.”

He saw the smile that let him know Xanatos was kidding, but he was careful not to look too smug, anyway. For a man who could sometimes wear arrogance like a second skin, Xanatos seemed bound and determined that Obi-Wan would not share that trait, always ready with the sharp comment to deflate any untoward swelling of his ego.

Tired from his exertions, Obi-Wan sat down beside Xanatos. They were in one of the holds of the ship where they had cleared out a space for practice and exercise. There weren’t a lot of amenities in the room, but the boxes of cargo came in handy as furniture. He felt a hand stir his hair, and smiled. His master still tended to treat him like a child even though he was only a couple of months away from being thirteen.

“Thirteen is still a child, and do not call me master.” 

Obi-Wan sighed, long tired of this argument. “If you are not my master, then I will never have one. I’m about to turn thirteen, and you were the one who told me that that was the cut-off date for being chosen as a padawan. We’ll never reach Coruscant or any of the other temples in time. I don’t know why you’re still so set on it anyway. I was too old to enter the Temple when you met me, and I’m certainly too old now.”

Xanatos shook his head. “Under other circumstances, yes, you would be too old. But the reason the Jedi have age requirements in the first place is the difficulty in training someone who is too old, or, I should say, the difficulty of retraining someone. Children learn so quickly that, even by the age of five, they have picked up many of the traits they’ll carry with them for life. If you had entered the Temple at five, with what you had already picked up then, you would probably have never adjusted to the life, or at least not well.”

Obi-Wan knew what traits Xanatos was talking about, as they’d discussed it before, but he still couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Those traits had come in handy at least once during their time together, which Xanatos knew even if he didn’t like to admit it.

The hand on his head shook it a little, though Xanatos had a smile on his face. “Yes, well, be that as it may, things didn’t work out as I’d hoped then. But I now believe that that was the Force at work, regardless of how difficult some of those delays were.”

He remembered the worst of the delays, on Kushor-An. He’d been nearing eight when they’d crashed there. He’d just turned twelve when they finally left. They’d only known the name of the planet because of the rather volatile natives, as the planet hadn’t even been listed on any of their charts. 

It was their ignorance of the planet that had led to their becoming far too familiar with it. They’d been flying in a little scout ship that they’d managed to beg, borrow, and fix their way into. Probably a little Force compulsion had been involved, too, since Xanatos had been shielding heavily from him during the ‘negotiations.’ But it had been a way to travel without depending on the undependable smugglers cum pilots that had been their means of transportation up until that point. 

But the flight course they had plotted had been based on a planet not being where a planet was, and their little ship hadn’t been able to escape the gravitational pull. It also hadn’t been able to escape the crash, as system after system failed in the wake of too much stress being applied to them. That they’d lived through the crash was amazing. That they’d lived through the harsh conditions they’d found on the planet, with its scarcity of so many necessary resources, like edible vegetation and potable water, not to mention a sometimes hostile local populace, was a miracle. That the homing beacon they’d kept going through nearly five years, using a lot of ingenuity and no small amount of luck, had managed to get them rescued eventually was beyond a miracle.

Through the bond, he could feel Xanatos’ own relief at being free from Kushor-An. It hadn’t been a happy time for either of them, especially Xanatos, who’d spent so much of the preceding year being ill. The hand on his head carded through his hair, giving and receiving comfort. “I know you often complained at the time about my making you continue your training even though we were stranded, when it was unlikely we would ever be found, but the Force was telling me even then that you would someday be a Jedi. Your being with me has meant that instead of being one student among many, you have had the sole attention of your teacher. And not just during class, but throughout the day as well. That, plus the bond, has given you the grounding in Jedi philosophy that you needed. In fact, you are well ahead of where other initiates and padawans your age would be. Well, except in saber training. But you have the katas down well, and the rest will come easily enough when we finally get you to a place that actually has sabers.”

Obi-Wan didn’t really care about having a saber. He knew he was handy enough with a blaster, Xanatos’ objections aside, which he figured would be of far more use than a weapon you had to be close to someone before you could use it. “I still don’t know why you’re so determined on this. You didn’t become a Jedi, why are you so eager for me to be one?”

Xanatos had a far-off look on his face, memories playing in his eyes. “I didn’t become one, and I have many regrets. I think now that part of my problem was the bond. What I had with my master was nothing like what you and I share. I believe that lack of a real bond may have hindered my training in ways that I couldn’t see then.”

His expression going from wistful to wary, Xanatos continued. “And I think that maybe my master wasn’t what I… but then my memories aren’t that clear anymore. I was very much on the edge then, so maybe I misheard. Or didn’t understand properly. It doesn’t really matter now. But I believe you will do well with the order, despite a larcenous tendency that was given far too much encouragement at an impressionable age.”

Obi-Wan gave his best innocent look. He’d practiced it a lot, and was pretty good at it.

Xanatos just laughed, not falling for it in the least. “Even with that, you’re a good person at heart. You like helping others, are at your best then. I was like that at one time, and I failed to follow through on what I knew to be right. I would like for you to avoid that mistake.”

Obi-Wan felt a small glow of pride. For all that he knew Xanatos had done some bad things, he still seemed to be the most moral person Obi-Wan knew. Not that that was too hard, but it was still nice to be around someone who didn’t think that hurting someone was a good way to pass an evening. 

For all that, he still wasn’t sure he wanted to become a Jedi. Especially not when it meant leaving the only person who cared about him in the entire galaxy. The only person Obi-Wan really cared about in return. Oh, he liked helping people when he could, but it was nothing to what he’d do for his teacher. He couldn’t help one last argument. “I may be on the same educational level as those initiates and padawans, but my Force use isn’t. You’re the one who’s always complaining about how erratic my control is.”

It was Xanatos’ turn to sigh. “That is because you let your anger and guilt control you too much. If it’s controlling you, then you can’t control the Force that flows through you. Your anger and your guilt, both of which are misplaced. One day you’re going to finally believe me about Lato’s death not being your fault, and I’m going to have a heart attack right then and there.”

Obi-Wan felt his heart contract. He knew Xanatos was right about Lato’s death. In his head, anyway. But he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t rid himself of the idea that the bad luck that had plagued them over the years was because of what he had done. That Obi-Wan was still making it up to Lato for not having served him first. He shielded the thoughts from Xanatos, not wanting to hear the lecture again, knowing it wouldn’t make any difference to the way he felt.

Well, he knew how to get Xanatos off that track anyway. He smirked. “Yes, Master.”

Xanatos didn’t smile, however. His face was somber as he said, “Don’t.”

Obi-Wan ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I know it bothers you.”

The hand on his head moved to his shoulder and squeezed. “You will have a master. This is what the Force has been telling me. It’s why I won’t give up trying to get to Coruscant. It’s why I cannot allow you to call me master.”

It took Xanatos a second to stand, the damage the Rumi’s fever had caused robbing him of the grace he’d once known, but he managed, giving one more squeeze to Obi-Wan’s shoulder before he turned to leave the hold.

Obi-Wan watched him go, waiting until he was out of the room before he said, “There may be a day when I have another, but you will always be my master.”

::::::::::

Xanatos tried to find a comfortable position on the bed, knowing he needed to rest. They would make planetfall soon, and he would have to find them another ship to travel on. At least the pilot of this one hadn’t gotten them lost or in trouble with the law, as had happened before. 

And hopefully, they would actually be landing on Duvalpore as expected. Experience had shown him that just because the pilot said they were going to a particular planet, didn’t always mean that’s where they were going. Smugglers were, after all, notorious for filing false flight plans. They were also not known for being honest with their passengers. But Xanatos had used a bit of Force compulsion on this captain, even though it was something he tried to avoid doing, so he didn’t expect any trouble. 

He had never been to Duvalpore, knew almost nothing about it, but he knew it was a hub in a lot of different trade routes, including many that led to Republic worlds. It would be the closest they’d managed to get to one since he’d first met Obi-Wan. If they could just make it into the Republic, he knew the rest of the trip would go smoothly. For once.

Since meeting Obi-Wan, he had had the most amazing run of bad luck he’d ever heard of. Being stranded on Kushor-An had been bad enough, but they’d also had problems with faulty ships, faulty captains, run-ins with the law, and more. He’d never been able to get to the funds he’d had before, and he couldn’t remember the last time money hadn’t been a problem. Of course, as Obi-Wan had pointed out many times before, if he’d only give up his obsession with getting the boy to the Temple, then it would have been easy for someone of his ‘talents’ to acquire money. But he couldn’t do that. Not anymore.

He’d fallen so far from what his path might have been. Should have been. He could take that first step again, in the name of making life easier for him and Obi-Wan. But what if he couldn’t stop there? He’d done it once already, and, like any addict, he wasn’t sure if he could stop once he started. The temptation to misuse the Force was already too strong, hence his desire to avoid using Force compulsions.

He turned in the bed again, trying to settle his thoughts, but the ache in his back set off another memory. They’d been on Sintane, another almost lawless Outer Rim world, when Xanatos had contracted Rumi’s fever. It should have been fatal, especially considering that they’d had no money for housing, let alone medicine, and no friends or contacts on the planet to help out. Only a man sick with a usually fatal disease that kept its victims bed-bound and often delirious with fever. And a just turned seven-year-old boy. Who’d managed to look after them both, managed to get Xanatos enough medical help that he had lived, though it had taken almost half a year before he was anything like he had been. He’d never completely recovered, his body stooped and aged beyond his years from the disease. And being stranded on Kushor-An so soon afterwards hadn’t helped any, either.

He’d turned a blind eye to what Obi-Wan had done to survive, to help Xanatos survive, during all those months on Sintane. He knew the boy had made illegal use of his Force talents, and of whatever he’d managed to pick up form Yarl and Lato about thieving, but he’d not asked too closely. Obi-Wan had been careful to shield the bond from his actions, and had always been reluctant to talk about it.

Well, Xanatos had things he wasn’t too proud of in his past, too, and he certainly hadn’t thought it was his place to judge. He’d simply thanked the child for his help, and told him how proud he was that Obi-Wan had managed so well. A small smile was the only response he ever got, but it was far better than the guilt he’d seen in the boy before.

Obi-Wan was too prone to guilt. And superstition, too. No matter how many times Xanatos told him that their bad luck was just that, he knew the boy still believed that it was because he’d been ‘bad’. He’d have to be sure to tell whoever chose him as a padawan about that, so that they could work on the problem after he was gone.

Xanatos felt that pang in his heart, the one that came every time he thought about leaving Obi-Wan. He wished it could be different, wished he could be the boy’s master, but the Temple would never accept him as such. And he wouldn’t lose Obi-Wan his chance to become a knight just because Xanatos had become a lonely old man, too attached to the bright child that had come into his life. 

Clearing his mind of all distractions, Xanatos settled back on the bed, determined to sleep. He listened to the engines, lulled by their steady hum, and drifted off into sleep.

Only to be woken back up by a strange sensation. Something like pain, but not actually hurting, it wound through his mind, upsetting his thoughts. He tried to feel through the Force to determine what the problem was, but his connection was strangely dampened, even his bond with Obi-Wan seeming to come from a great distance.

But even with that seeming distance, he could still feel that Obi-Wan was having the same problem he was. He struggled up off the bed, ready to go to the boy, when the child came to him, confusion plain on his face.

“What is it, Master?”

Xanatos was too bothered to correct him. “I do not know. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

They heard the captain’s voice over the ship’s comm system. “Take hold, we’re about to land on Duvalpore.”

Seating both of them on the bed, Xanatos felt the almost pain increase the closer they got to the planet. Felt his connection with the Force, his connection with Obi-Wan diminish in direct ratio to it. He couldn’t explain it, and he’d certainly never felt anything like it before, but he knew that it had to be the planet they were landing on that was the cause of this.

After they’d landed, he sent Obi-Wan to gather their belongings as he went to check things out. Through the open hatchway he saw Duvalpore for the first time. A more unprepossessing planet he had never seen. Even Kushor-An, with its large tracks of barren land, had seemed to be more alive than this. 

Obi-Wan came up behind him, and Xanatos didn’t need the nearly silent bond to tell he was upset. And confused. Sith, so was he. But he did think he’d figured out the problem. “It’s the Force, or rather the lack thereof. The whole planet seems to be devoid of it, though I’ve never heard of such a thing.

 

“Will we be Ok?”

A valid question, but one Xanatos really couldn’t answer. But he faked it, needing to offer some comfort. “I believe so. But I don’t want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.”

They made their way into the port. It was a busy, teeming with people of myriad species, all of whom looked drawn and wary. It was obvious that a lot of money came through this place; there was a decadent richness to even the public facilities, but the opulent display seemed as muted as the people.

Xanatos realized it was the lack of the Force that was causing this. He didn’t know how these people survived here. Even non-sensitives would be affected by the near total absence of that most basic of energies. He’d only just got here, and he was already ready to leave. He looked around, trying to find a likely prospect.

It was because he wasn’t used to living without his Force senses that he backed up into someone. He’d have known they were there under normal circumstances. But the apology he was about to give dried up on his lips when he saw the man he’d run into.

Yarl was still a big man, still had his air of malice, though he looked as worn as anyone else they’d seen. He looked blankly as Xanatos for a second, but then his face split into a large smile, recognition plain in his eyes. “Well, what do we have here?”


	6. VI. Extremities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too late, but Obi-Wan still has to choose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name on Xanatos' false ID is a little joke, for those who catch it. It was most certainly not of my creation. As to the rest of the story... *ducks*

Yarl circled Xanatos, with an air of almost childish glee. “I’d given up on ever seeing you again. Had come to Duvalpore to be away from your kind, in fact. But I must have been living right, ‘cause here you are, like a gift from the gods.”

For a moment, Xanatos focused on the ‘your kind’ remark. So the absence of the Force on Duvalpore was known, at least by some. He mentally shook his head, knowing that they were in this situation now because he hadn’t done enough research. But he hadn’t thought he needed to, assuming he could handle whatever Duvalpore had to offer. His arrogance would get him killed one day. He’d have to be careful that Yarl didn’t hasten that day along.

Nodding his head at his old adversary, Xanatos kept a mild expression on his face. “I had forgotten you even existed. And what a blessing that has been.”

The smirk on Yarl’s face turned to a glare. “I see time hasn’t made you any more likeable.” He moved as if getting ready to strike out, but his attention was caught by something behind Xanatos. Something which made him smile again.

Reaching in his tunic, Yarl pulled out a comm card. “Always so superior, thinking you’re above us all. Well, not here, you’re not. Here you’re just an outsider, and I’m Second in the Thieves’ guild. You’ll be on your knees before me before this is over.” He pushed the card at Xanatos. “Put this in any public comm and it’ll get hold of me. Just contact me when you’re ready to beg.” With that he started to walk away, only pausing long enough to call behind him, “And you will be ready to beg.”

Xanatos watched, card in hand, as Yarl approached a man wearing the port insignia. He spoke to the man for a moment, then pointed to Xanatos and Obi-Wan. The man nodded, and pulled a comp system out of his pocket. He entered some information, then nodded again. Yarl clapped the man on the shoulder, winked at Xanatos, and left, obviously happy with himself.

Pulling Obi-Wan behind him, Xanatos made his way further into the port, determined to find a way off Duvalpore before it was too late. He ignored the little voice in his head that said it already was.

::::::::::

“No.”

Xanatos walked away from the pilot, not even bothering to argue. He’d stopped doing that after the tenth refusal. He’d lost track of what number this last one was, but he’d reached the point where he had to concede that they weren’t going to find passage the normal way. Even the pilot that they’d come in with had just turned away, shaking his head as they approached. 

Xanatos looked at Obi-Wan, knowing that he had to be tired and hungry by this point. He was probably also feeling a little scared at their situation. It frustrated Xanatos that he couldn’t sense what Obi-Wan was feeling. He’d become so accustomed to the bond that he had no real way to judge the boy’s mood without it.

Except the obvious, anyway. “How are you doing, Obi-Wan?”

A shrug. “I’m all right.” He paused, looking anywhere except at Xanatos. “Are we stuck here?”

It appeared they were, not that he was going to say that to his student. “For a little while, until I can figure out a way off this Sith-begotten rock. But don’t worry, I’ll find a way.” Needing to get Obi-Wan’s mind off the problem, he asked, “I’d imagine that you would like something to eat and drink about now, wouldn’t you?”

Obi-Wan smiled. His appetite was a standing joke between them. But Obi-Wan really did need to eat. During their long time on Kushor-An, he’d lost weight he really couldn’t afford due to the scarcity of food. Xanatos had always made sure that Obi-Wan had the larger share of whatever food they could get, but it was never enough, and his growing body had used up what little reserves he’d ever managed to gain. Even the months since they’d finally left that planet hadn’t been enough to get his weight back up to what it should be, though he no longer looked like he was starving. Now he just probably felt like it.

“Well, I guess if some food became available, I could force myself to eat.”

Xanatos returned the smile, looking around for an eatery, preferably a cheap one, but what he saw was the man that Yarl had talked to. The man who’d entered something into a comp, following which it had become impossible for them to book passage off this planet. And while he couldn’t swear that the two things were related, he thought it was a fairly safe bet.

Forgetting all about food for the moment, Xanatos approached the man, trying to keep a pleasant look on his face, even though his anger struggled to get out of control. He bowed his head in greeting. “I was wondering if I might speak with you.”

The man was middle-aged, a little plump, and pleasant looking. He looked like someone’s grandfather. Of course, Xanatos knew better than to be deceived by looks. But the man nodded politely at him and said, “How can I help you?”

Now that the man had agreed so readily, Xanatos was at something of a loss. How did you ask someone if they’d done something to keep you from leaving the planet? “My student and I would like to leave the planet, yet we seem to be unable to book passage.”

The man nodded again. “And you think I can do something about that?”

 

Ah, blunt and to the point. Something Xanatos much appreciated in this situation. “Yes, I believe you can.”

A smile this time. “Happens, you’re right. I could do something about it. But I won’t.” He held up a hand, stopping Xanatos from replying. “It’s nothing personal, you see, but I’m in the Transportation Guild, the Tenth. And my guild owes a favor to the Thieves’ Guild, which the Second called in. What he asked is that the two of you not be allowed to leave the planet, something I was able to comply with. Debt paid, as it should be.”

Xanatos remembered Yarl saying he was Second in the Thieves’ Guild, but hadn’t really paid much attention. Another mistake, it appeared. Well, he could learn from his mistakes. “Is there anything I can do to get your Guild in my debt?”

The man looked at him, a little sadly. “Doesn’t work that way. You really don’t understand the Guilds.” He looked at Obi-Wan, his expression going wistful. “Unfortunately for you both, you will. But I’m not getting myself or my Guild between you and the Thieves’ Guild. I can’t help you. Now, I have things I need to be doing, so if you’ll excuse me.” And he walked away.

And all Xanatos could do was watch him leave. He turned back to Obi-Wan, pasting a smile on his face, even as his stomach knotted with tension. “Well, let’s find some food, then.”

Obi-Wan just looked at him, no false smiles on his face. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

In that moment, Xanatos could see how much older Obi-Wan was than the child he should be, than the child he’d been trying to protect from the truth. His smile disappeared as he said, “As do I.”

::::::::::

Velen was Nineteenth in the Security Guild, and determined to move up. All he really needed was a break, and it looked like one had finally come his way.

He read the ID he had before him. Manley Pointer. Human male. Age 42 standard. Hair: black. Eyes: blue. Occupation: salesman. Velen shook his head. Salesman. Sure.

He looked at the man the ID belonged to, but he wasn’t saying anything. Well, that was Ok. Velen was patient. And it wasn’t as if he really needed a confession to make the charges stick.

He picked up the second ID. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Human male. Age 12 standard. Hair: brown. Eyes: blue. Occupation: student. Velen looked at the boy. Student of what, hmm? He smirked. He could just imagine what was being taught, and what was being sold, too.

But that just worked in his favor. Two offworlders, neither of them Guild yet, and he had them dead to rights on a charge of breaking and entering, and for trying to stowaway on a outbound ship. There were stiff penalties for both of those charges, money that was owed to the Security Guild member that arrested them, which, happily, was Velen. Of course, having looked over all their belongings, Velen was well aware that they didn’t have the money to pay the charges. But that was the great part.

Without any money of his own, and owing Velen as he did, Pointer would have no choice but to join the Workers’ Guild, where half of what he earned would go towards his debt until it was paid off. Which, with interest accrued, wouldn’t be for a long while. Velen could certainly use the extra funds. 

But his real stroke of luck was the boy. In just under a month he’d turn thirteen, and yet he was still Guild-less. The chances for profit from this situation were quite good, and it wouldn’t be the pocket change he’d be getting from Pointer. If he held Kenobi’s contract, then he could make enough money to buy his way up, maybe even as high as Fifteenth.

He was still happily contemplating the joy of being Fifteenth in the Guild, when the comm buzzed. Within minutes, the voice on the other end had killed his new dreams of wealth and glory. His one consolation was that, whatever profit he might have lost out on, at least he wasn’t in debt to the Thieves’ Guild. 

Not anymore, anyway.

::::::::::

“Not such hot stuff without your magic, are you?”

Xanatos would have argued except for a) it wouldn’t improve their situation any, and b) he wasn’t such hot stuff without his ‘magic.’

Yarl didn’t really seem to need a reply, anyway. “I thought I might have to wait ‘til the kid turned thirteen, and I’d bought his contract, before I had you where I wanted you. But here you are, just a day after you got here, in my custody, all nice and legal, and owing me a debt. Life is sweet.”

He trailed around the office, touching the elegant furniture and objects that decorated the room, clapping each of the four guards present on the shoulder as he passed them. He looked incredibly out of place in the stately room, dross among gilt. When no one replied to his comment, he stilled, looking Xanatos and Obi-Wan over. “Aren’t you curious? Don’t you wonder what I plan to do with you?”

Xanatos just smiled, knowing that his silence would get him more answers than questions. He gave a quick glance at Obi-Wan, but the boy was just sitting there, not looking at anyone. Xanatos wished he could offer him some reassurance that everything was all right, but he had none to give.

They’d been caught trying to stowaway on an outbound ship, captain and crew coming down on them before they even lifted off. Xanatos had tried to get them free, but he’d stopped when he found himself facing a blaster. Without the Force, they were far too vulnerable to such things.

They’d been taken to the Security Guild’s offices, had their possessions taken from them, and seemed to be heading for a stay in jail. Except that instead of cell, they’d been brought here, to the Thieves’ Guild offices. To Yarl.

Who was too busy trying to be intimidating to notice that his audience’s attention had wandered. Xanatos didn’t really need Yarl to look intimidating, as he was worried enough. Nothing had gone right for them since they’d come to Duvalpore, and the situation didn’t look to improve any time soon.

As if to prove this point, Yarl reached out and slapped Xanatos. “Still trying to be the one in control. Still thinking you’re better than me. Well, not here. Here I’m the one who has all the power, because I’m Second in one of the strongest Guilds on Duvalpore.”

Xanatos still didn’t understand the repeated references to Guilds, and figured it was worth asking about, seeing as it might answer some questions and keep Yarl from hitting him again. Or Obi-Wan. “What are these Guilds you keep talking about?”

Yarl laughed. “You really don’t know a thing about this planet, do you? Guilds are everything on Duvalpore. Everyone belongs to one. Even offworlders have to join if they’re going to stay for more than two weeks. It’s how we keep order. The only law here is Guild law, and your Guild has the final say over everything.”

He stopped and poured himself a drink, looking at Obi-Wan. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t one of pleasure. “For the kids, they have until they’re thirteen to get into a Guild through talent. They can audition for whatever Guild they want, and they might make it in. Most don’t, though, ‘cause the main way of getting into a Guild is money. You buy your way in, and you buy your way up. The higher up in a Guild you are, the better off you are. More money, more perks, more power. Less people who have any say over what you do.”

Yarl reached out and traced a hand down Obi-Wan’s face. He laughed when the boy pulled away from his touch, and laughed harder when one of his men pushed Xanatos back in his chair. “You need to get over the idea that you have any power here, any say in what happens to you. I’m Second in the Thieves’ Guild. I only answer to one man, and yet thousands answer to me. I bought my way into the Guild when I came here with the money you left behind after the brat here killed Lato. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that your money gave me the power to have my revenge.”

Xanatos had stopped struggling against the hands holding him in place, but he was still ready to spring if Yarl tried anything with Obi-Wan, even knowing he was next to helpless against four armed guards. “And what exactly will your revenge be?”

Yarl grabbed Obi-Wan’s chin in his hand, digging his fingers in when the boy tried to pull away again. “Oh, the Guild system is going to be my revenge. Neither of you have any money, so you won’t be buying your way into a Guild. That leaves only the Workers’ Guild, the one anyone can get into. The scut workers. The ones who do the things none of the other Guilds want to do.” 

He turned to Xanatos. “Because you’re over twenty-five, you’ll enter the Guild as a full member. They’ll give you some work, something nice and dirty, mind, and they’ll pay you next to nothing. Regardless, I’ll get half of it until you pay off the penalties for your crimes. Including interest, of course.”

Xanatos scowled, but didn’t reply to the taunt.

Yarl turned back to Obi-Wan. “When the kid turns thirteen without having a Guild choose him, he’ll also go into the Workers’ Guild. But.” He leaned down, looking directly in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Until you’re twenty-five, you’re an apprentice, with no rights or money of your own. Instead, you have a contract. And whoever owns that contract arranges for you to learn a trade. Because you owe me, I’ll own your contract. But don’t worry, ‘cause I’m going to put you into a trade that you’re already familiar with. The same one your mother belonged to.”

Obi-Wan managed to pry Yarl’s fingers off his face. In his most regal tones, learned from listening to Xanatos at his most insulting, he said, “You’re running ahead of yourself. I’m not thirteen yet, and won’t be for several weeks. There is still time for me to leave Duvalpore. Or to audition for a Guild.”

Yarl sneered at him. “What Guild do you think you could get into, the Courtesans’? They like their boys pretty and pampered. You’re face is pretty enough, I’ll grant you, but look at you. You’re skinny as a reed, and your hands are rough and callused. No, the only place you’ll be making use of your talents is in the places the Courtesans’ Guild won’t go: the portside brothels, or the streets. That’s where the young and pretty in the Workers’ Guild wind up. Mind you, they don’t have the longest life expectancy, but then most of them are happy enough to die when the time comes, anyway. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll share your mother’s fate early on.”

Xanatos knew that for the past day, Obi-Wan had spent far too much time being hungry, tired, scared, angry, and in a state of almost-pain from being cut off from the Force. He’d felt all of that, too. But the boy hadn’t complained, probably not wanting to make things more difficult for Xanatos, not wanting to be a burden. But he could see the rush of emotions that played across Obi-Wan’s face, and he knew that all of those reservations were forgotten in the anger that clearly showed. 

Obi-Wan had been too young and too small to help his mother when men like Yarl had used her and gave her almost nothing in return for it. He’d been too young and too small to stop Yarl from hitting him after his mother had died. And he was too young and too small, not to mention out-gunned, to stop Yarl from destroying their lives now. 

But Obi-Wan had always performed well under pressure. He struck out, catching everyone by surprise. The guards had been too busy watching Xanatos, thinking him the most likely threat, and Yarl obviously hadn’t considered the boy a threat at all. Because of the surprise, and because of the fighting skills that Xanatos and their stay on Sintane had taught him, he had Yarl on the ground and bleeding before anyone could react.

It was chaos for a couple of minutes afterwards, Yarl trying to get Obi-Wan off of him, Obi-Wan tenaciously battling on, Xanatos and the guards fighting to help and hinder both the combatants and each other. But it had resolved itself into Xanatos being held in place by several of the guards and Yarl sitting on Obi-Wan, both of them bleeding, and Yarl about to strike out again, when the door to the office slammed open.

Yarl and the guards all immediately turned their attention to the man who entered the room. He was even taller than Yarl, but he was elegance and grace to Yarl’s bulk and brawn. There was no mistaking the element of danger that surrounded him, however. He took in the scene before him with an expression of boredom, and said, “Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on here?”

Yarl was obviously nervous, but he replied readily enough. “I was just taking care of a little problem, First.”

With the sudden lack of attention in their direction, Xanatos helped Obi-Wan up off the floor, looking him over for injury. Seeing only a split lip and some red marks already forming into bruises, he brushed his hand over the boy’s hair, offering what little comfort he could.

Realizing that the room had gone silent, he looked at what he assumed was the First in the Thieves’ Guild, only to find the man staring at Obi-Wan. He stepped in front of the boy, not liking the attention.

The First only looked amused. “I had heard that there were some new offworlders that had come to Duvalpore. It seems my Second has taken a distinct interest in you. I only wondered why.”

Before Xanatos could even think to answer, Yarl broke in. “Just some old dealings from before I came here. Nothing that concerns the Guild.”

“And yet you’ve used several debts owed to the Guild on these… old dealings. I think that makes it the business of the Guild, don’t you?”

Yarl became noticeably more nervous. “Yes, First. I just meant that I could handle it.”

The First nodded. “I’m sure you can. However, some of the other Guilds have heard about your new interests, and are curious about them. They’d like to meet this new talent that has you using up favors right and left.”

Yarl swallowed hard, looking at a loss. “I….”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already arranged it. Why don’t you bring your guests to my suite, where everyone can meet them.” With that he gave a negligent wave to the guards, and left.

Glaring at Xanatos and Obi-Wan as if the situation was somehow their fault, Yarl growled, “You heard the First. Take them to his suite.”

::::::::::

Hours later, they were finally free, though free was a relative term. Their debt to Yarl had been logged, and Xanatos’ entry into the Workers’ Guild was being processed, but in the mean time, they were free to go about their business.

Which Xanatos had decided was getting off of Duvalpore as fast as possible, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree with him. The time he’d spent in the First’s office had scared him almost as much as missing the Force.

There’d been a bunch of people there, all from different Guilds. Most of them had actually ignored them, seeming much more interested in talking to their fellow Guild members and eating the refreshments that the First had provided. But some of them had treated Obi-Wan like he was a slave at market. The Second from the Assassins’ Guild had actually tried to feel him up before Xanatos had stepped in front of him.

He’d even made Obi-Wan an offer of entry into the Assassins’ Guild. Which Obi-Wan certainly didn’t want, especially not with the terms of the agreement, which was sleeping with the Second. Obi-Wan laughed at himself. He was a whore’s son, and yet he called it sleeping with. There was no thought of slumber in the Second’s thoughts, only fucking. 

Obi-Wan found the whole subject of sex embarrassing. He could barely masturbate, the blush that heated his face definitely not there from arousal. Xanatos thought it was because of what Lato had tried to do to him, plus the fact that he’d seen his mother having sex at far too young an age, but all Obi-Wan knew was that he didn’t like to think about it. Like his guilt over Lato’s death, it was something that he couldn’t really seem to get past.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Xanatos calling to him. “Obi-Wan. I need you to pay attention now.”

“Yes, Master.”

Xanatos just smiled, not calling him on the title at all. “The ship we came in on is due to leave in under an hour. We’ll have to be more careful than we were last time, but since it’s a one-man operation, I think we have a better chance of getting away on that ship. Plus the Force suggestion I used on the captain may still have a little power if we are caught out. And if that fails, we stand a better chance of overcoming just one man than we would against a larger crew. Regardless, we can’t stay here.”

Obi-Wan nodded, agreeing fully.

Xanatos said, “I want you to stay here while I check things out. I’ll come back when everything’s clear.”

Nodding again, Obi-Wan settled back to wait. He found he could stand to the side of one of the view ports to the landing bay and remain hidden, yet still see keep most of the ship they wanted in view. 

He’d been waiting for over thirty minutes, and his nerves had begun to fray, when he finally saw Xanatos coming back. He almost crowed with the thought that this whole thing might finally be over.

He was still smiling when the blaster shot hit Xanatos in the chest, knocking him down.

Killing him.

Obi-Wan heard himself screaming, heard the cry of ‘No!’ that did nothing to change what was. For what seemed like forever, it was all he was able to do. That, and cry.

He saw the man that had shot Xanatos approaching the body. It was one of Yarl’s guards. He was far larger than Obi-Wan, and he had the blaster, but just as had happened during his fight with Yarl, Obi-Wan didn’t care. He’d learned a lot about fighting from Xanatos, and he’d learned a lot about cheating during their stay on Sintane, but it wasn’t skill that he used when he attacked the guard; it was sheer rage. His scream of loss gave way to a scream of effort as he threw himself at the other man. 

The blaster was lost in the charge, the momentum of even his small body enough to knock them both down. He didn’t hesitate at all, immediately slamming a knee into the other man’s groin, and chopping his fingers into vulnerable throat.

The tide of the fight turned against him then, the blows he took making his head ring, slowing his own reactions down. For the second time that day, he found himself flat on the ground, with his opponent over him, getting in more hits than he was.

But mostly by chance, Obi-Wan’s next move, a palm to nose, ended the fight, as the cartilage was driven back into the skull, killing the guard instantly. Fight over and head spinning, Obi-Wan lay there panting, not knowing what to do.

A groan from nearby changed that. Obi-Wan crawled over to Xanatos, hope and fear warring within him. The chest was still moving, but the damage great; a large, bloody hole that raised Obi-Wan’s fear and did nothing for his hope. 

Seeking and offering comfort, he pulled Xanatos’ head into his lap, the tears he hadn’t realized he was still crying dropping onto the pale face. They seemed to rouse the man. He looked up at Obi-Wan, one hand trying to touch his face. 

Obi-Wan called to him. “Master! Master!”

Xanatos gave a weak smile. “It’s too late.”

Obi-Wan felt more tears flowing, and his voice broke on a sob. “No!”

But Xanatos continued. “You’re going to have to do some things you won’t want to… to survive. I didn’t want that for you, but you’ve done it before… and still came through intact. Hold onto that… that inner strength… don’t let expedience take you too far down the wrong path. Just enough to survive… no more. Remember what I’ve taught you… and when it gets too hard, and you think it would be easier to just give in… remember that I loved you.”

Past speech, Obi-Wan just nodded, leaning over to kiss his master’s cheek. 

In a voice more breath than word, Xanatos said, “You will be a Jedi, I promise you… my Padawan.”

A last breath sighed past Obi-Wan’s ear, and the head in his lap limply turned aside.

Obi-Wan never knew how long he sat there, the hole he felt in him a seeming match to the one in Xanatos’. Eventually the thought came to him that he should be going. Yarl would have more people out looking for them, and it would be a waste of Xanatos’ life if Obi-Wan got caught by Yarl again. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. He didn’t want to leave his master’s body here for anyone to find, but he had no choice. 

He did have a choice about his future. One that Yarl wouldn’t want him to choose. One that Obi-Wan himself didn’t want to take. But he would do as his master asked, and survive, Yarl and his plans be damned. 

He pulled a holocube of his mother out of Xanatos’ pocket. He had carried it for Obi-Wan, keeping it safe, since that first day together. Thoughts of that day almost sent him into tears again. He kissed Xanatos one last time, saying goodbye.

He got up to leave, turning back one last time. “I’ll always remember, Master. Always.”


	7. VII. Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon worries about his master and a PLF

The Sith was targeting Qui-Gon. Maybe it was because they’d fought already on Tattooine, or maybe he just thought that Qui-Gon was the weaker fighter, but he was definitely after him. And Dooku didn’t seem to be able to offer much help.

His thoughts led to a moment of inattention, and Qui-Gon was knocked off the catwalk leading to the power generator room. He managed to reach out with the Force and keep himself from falling too far, but the delay in getting back to Dooku was telling.

The Sith and Dooku had already entered the hallway leading to the generator. The security beams had cycled on, cutting Dooku and the Sith off from each other, and cutting Qui-Gon off from them both. He spent the down time watching his former master.

The man had always been one of the best fighters that Qui-Gon had ever seen, and yet he seemed to be having difficulty with this fight. He’d let openings slip by him, he’d left Qui-Gon in some bad positions without backing him up, and he seemed to be fighting slower than he usually did.

Yes, Dooku had been one of the best, but it appeared he wasn’t any longer. Maybe it was lack of practice. Had Dooku even had to fight since that last time, when he’d faced off against Xanatos? Having to fight your own apprentice, who’d turned to the Dark Side, would take something out of anyone. Maybe it was remnants of that battle that was affecting Dooku’s fighting skill now.

Or maybe it was just age. Dooku certainly was no youngling, his gray hair and lined face giving away his many years. 

Qui-Gon’s thoughts were interrupted by the security beams cycling off. It started at the other end of the hall, allowing the Sith and Dooku to re-engage before Qui-Gon could even move further into the hallway. The two fighters continued into the power generator room, sabers a dizzying swirl of lights.

But right before the beam in front of Qui-Gon cycled off, their sabers locked, the fight devolving into a show of strength. Worried for his former master, Qui-Gon readied himself to move as fast as he could, to reach the two before the fight ended badly. For Dooku, anyway.

The Sith was looking smug, pushing at Dooku, sure of his win, when Dooku leaned in close and whispered something to him. The smug look turned to shock, then to dead as Dooku hit him in the chin, knocking him back and running him through with his saber.

Qui-Gon’s run to his master slowed as he saw the Sith fall lifelessly to the ground. And he’d been worried about Dooku’s fighting skill. It obviously just took the man a little while to get warmed up.

Dooku was looking at him with an arched brow. “Were you running to my rescue just then?”

Qui-Gon smiled. “Yes, Master. I should have known better, but I was worried about you. Your fighting had seemed off to me before, and I was afraid that you were getting….” Qui-Gon trailed off, realizing how insulting that last sentence had been going to be.

Dooku frowned at him, his face austere and cold. “You were afraid I was getting old.”

His head hung, Qui-Gon just nodded, feeling much like the padawan he’d been.

A smile answered his nod. “Well, perhaps I am getting a little old, but you shouldn’t have worried. I was in no danger from that fight. It was a foregone conclusion.”

Dooku seemed very amused at his comment, though Qui-Gon couldn’t see why. But, then, many things about his master confused Qui-Gon. He’d long ago learned to just live with it. “We really should go and see if we can be of any more service.”

Dooku just looked at him. “Perhaps what we should do is take you to a healer to look at that broken bone you’re trying to hide.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “How did you know about that?”

A smirk appeared. “Years of experience. Now let’s get you looked at. We’re not all as young as we used to be.”

Qui-Gon smiled at the dig. His master never really seemed to change.

::::::::::

When they’d finally brought him out of the bacta tank, several hours had passed. After a long shower to try to get the bacta out of all the places it tended to get into, he found Dooku waiting for him in the rooms he’d been assigned.

“I take it you have news.”

Dooku just sat down, indicating that Qui-Gon should, too. 

Qui-Gon sat, but was impatient to know what was going on. “What’s happened?”

Dooku’s face was grim. “My news is in two parts, really. First, the control ship was destroyed, so we needn’t worry about the Trade Federation for a while. And, on a related note, about that pathetic life form you picked up on Tattooine…”

Qui-Gon’s face paled, knowing what was coming. “He’s dead. I told him to stay in that fighter until I returned and then someone killed him there.”

A shake of the head. “No, it’s not that. Well, not in the way you think.”

“What happened?”

Dooku seemed more at ease now that he’d broken the worst of the news. “Well, as you said, you’d told him to stay in the cockpit of that fighter.”

Qui-Gon hated this halting presentation of events, but his master could never be hurried along. “He didn’t.”

Dooku shook his head. “No, he did. But the fighter didn’t stay where it belonged.”

Nodding impatiently, Qui-Gon asked, “And this is related to the control ship being destroyed how?”

“He was the one who actually destroyed it.”

Almost a minute passed before Qui-Gon was able to take it in. “What? That’s impossible! He’s so… hapless. How?”

Dooku nodded, agreeing with his assessment. “He accidentally flew into the ship’s main reactor.”

Qui-Gon was still stunned, his thoughts circling uselessly. “He’s dead.”

Dooku nodded again. “Yes, that’s what generally happens when one flies into a ship’s main reactor.”

“I brought him all this way and now he’s dead. And after he saved so many lives.”

With a sardonic tilt to his eyebrow, Dooku answered, “Yes. Though, by all accounts, it was by accident, since he never did have complete control over the ship. And he did kill a number of the other pilots that were also trying to destroy the control ship. But, still, he did destroy it.”

Qui-Gon felt tired; the fight with the Sith, plus the news he’d just received weighing heavily on him. “I promised I’d get him away from the life he had known, away from being a slave. And now…”

“He is away from that life.”

Qui-Gon just shook his head at the callousness.

Dooku stood up. “Remember that you are a Jedi. There is no death.”

“Yes, a Jedi who got a helpless being killed.”

Laying a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, Dooku continued. “You’re being irrational. You did not kill him, nor get him killed. And you know it. He was remarkably accident-prone. That’s why Watto let you have him. I’m surprised he lived as long as he did. Now, we need to be going as there’s going to be a victory celebration tonight, and they wish for us to attend.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t actually argue with the accident-prone comment. Still. “We will include a memorial for Jar-Jar in the victory celebration. His help and sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

As they left the room, Dooku said, “By the way, did you feel the Force sensitivity in that boy that was with the King’s entourage?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Yes, I’d have to be Force blind not to feel him. I wonder how the Crèche patrol missed him.”

::::::::::

The celebrations were finally over. Qui-Gon slumped down in a chair in his room, looking out the window at the beautiful night. Naboo was lovely, even after the invasion. Far too lovely for the horror that had gone on here.

He was tired. It had been a difficult mission, and nothing had gone as they’d thought. The King had been killed by the Trade Federation before they’d been able to save him. They’d managed to get his entourage away, but their ship had been damaged, and they’d crashed on Tattooine. 

Once down on the planet, things had continued to go wrong. They’d been unable to purchase the parts they needed, not having the right type of money. But Qui-Gon had managed to save some valuable merchandise from the accident-prone slave of the parts dealer, who had given in and taken their Republic credits out of gratitude. Or out of greed, as they’d seriously overpaid him. Though he had thrown his slave into the bargain, if it could be called that. Qui-Gon had thought things were finally going their way.

Until the Sith had arrived. Qui-Gon had been returning to the ship with Jar-Jar when he’d felt the disturbance. He’d turned to face it, but he’d been stunned by a vision out of nightmares, a menace from the past. He’d thought the Sith were extinct, more fairy tale than history, but that fairy tale had nearly beaten him then.

He’d been saved by his former master after that encounter, as Dooku brought the departing ship around to pick him up before the Sith could finish the fight. And he’d been saved by him again when they’d returned to Naboo with the former Senator Palpatine, newly elected king, and faced the Sith once more.

He guessed that things had turned out well enough in the end, though he still felt a lingering sadness over Jar-Jar’s death. The creature really had been hapless. But it had been a long, tiring mission and he was glad it was over. All the thoughts he’d had about Dooku’s age were coming back to haunt him as his body informed him that he was no longer a youngling himself. 

The thought of younglings brought Anakin to mind. The boy was the son of one of the previous king’s advisors. He’d spent his nine years being raised amidst the intrigue of galaxy spanning politics. And yet he’d managed to come through all of that as a happy child, bright and talented. Even so, he needed to be trained, even if just enough that he wouldn’t be a danger to himself or others as he got older. 

There would be a lot of remedial work needed with the boy to get him grounded in working with the Force, in controlling it. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been raised in the Temple. How a Force sensitive, especially one as strong as Anakin, had gone undetected on a Republic world, he didn’t know. Yes the Naboans were a reclusive bunch, but still someone had been negligent.

Qui-Gon felt a prickling on his neck, the Force whispering at him. Someone had wanted the boy to be overlooked? He shook his head. On purpose? To what end? The only thing that made any sense was that someone didn’t want him to be a Jedi. His parents, perhaps.

A shiver ran down his spine, answers spoken directly to his senses. Not the boy’s parents, but someone close. Someone who didn’t want him to be a Jedi. Someone who wanted him to be something else. Sith! In more ways than one, apparently. 

There was nothing for it, then. Anakin was too old to be trained, but he’d have to be. They couldn’t leave someone of his potential around to be used against them. Against the galaxy. 

He’d have to talk to the Council about this.

::::::::::

“The Council agrees. The boy must be trained. And alert we should be for the return of the Sith. Always two there are. Either an apprentice or a master still remains. Whichever one survives, an apprentice they will seek.” Yoda looked around at all the nodding heads, the serious faces.

Qui-Gon, standing beside his former master, also nodded. “I would like to take the boy as my apprentice.”

Dooku started, and looked over at Qui-Gon. “Think about this, my friend. At his age, he will be hard to train. Do you really want your first apprentice to be one such as he?”

“Yes, he will be difficult to train, but he is a happy child, with no anger or fear in his heart. I will not have too much to undo to get him where he should be. And he is very strong in the Force.”

Dooku would have argued further, but Yoda interrupted. “Who his master is will be decided later. Remedial training is needed now. Some years here at the temple is what he needs.”

Qui-Gon smiled. This would save him a lot of training. Training that, regardless of his words to Dooku, he wasn’t all that sure he would do well at. Let those who had experience do that part. He would return later, when the boy was ready, and take him as his padawan.

Happy with his plan, Qui-Gon bowed to the Council and turned away, never seeing the considering look that Dooku was giving him. Blithely unaware, he walked out, sure in his vision of the future.


	8. VIII. Spectacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon watches a performance, and Obi-Wan gives one.

Qui-Gon knelt in the meditation garden, trying again to sink deep within himself. He felt the peace start to steal over him, and he let his thoughts drift. Unfortunately, they drifted back to what he'd just witnessed, and the feeling of peace started to fade.

He tried to chase the thoughts away, but what he'd seen continued to play behind his eyes. He shook his head, trying to shake the view loose. Trying to deny his thoughts, his doubts. He'd had everything planned out. And now....

Qui-Gon had just returned to the Temple earlier that day. He'd had a long series of back-to-back missions, and he'd been feeling them fully. He wasn't getting any younger, and there'd been a couple of times when he'd been afraid he wasn't going to get any older. He could have really used a partner to help watch his back.

It was that thought that had led him to seek out Anakin. It had been a couple of years since Qui-Gon had left him to get some training, intending to return when the boy was ready to be taken as an apprentice. Anakin was eleven now, definitely of an age to be chosen. He'd known from various inquiries that the boy was doing well in his studies, even better than his age-mates in many ways. It was time, he'd decided, for both of them.

A quick check of the schedule had led him to the salles, where Anakin and some other initiates were training. He'd watched from the observation room as the children had performed for some visiting masters. The idea was twofold: it gave the masters a chance to evaluate them as potential padawans, and it would help determine the initiates' standing in their Clan. Anakin had performed well, his strength in the Force helping him to make a good showing against the longer training of the others. But the others' training had helped them to handle the competition with little to no acrimony, whereas Anakin... he'd seemed to think that the position of clan leader was his by right, and wasn't shy about showing it. 

Qui-Gon had been upset by the boy's behavior, but he did understand it to a degree. He had come to the Temple late, perhaps too late to ever truly let go of what he had been and the privileges he had held before he came to the Jedi. And it wasn't as if Qui-Gon's own master hadn't been a little arrogant himself. More than a little, really, and yet Dooku was a great Jedi. Maybe Anakin had that in him, too, that ability to care even if he thought a little too much of himself.

Qui-Gon had managed to convince himself that everything was fine with the scene below, until he saw Anakin's reaction when he wasn't chosen as Clan leader. Instead of congratulating the girl who had won the coveted spot, he'd sulked, claiming that the contest hadn't been judged fairly, his voice carrying clearly to everyone in the room, the whine more than apparent.

With a sigh, Qui-Gon gave up on the thought of meditating. He'd been in the garden for over an hour now, and his thoughts still hadn't settled enough. He'd have to try to sort things out another way.

"You are very troubled, my friend."

The sound of Dooku's voice caused Qui-Gon to start. He'd been so wrapped up in his concerns that he hadn't sensed the other man's presence. "Yes, my Master, I am troubled."

Dooku came to kneel beside him. "Let me guess. You've been to see Anakin."

"How did you know?"

A small smile greeted this question. "I've been at the Temple far more than you have these last years. I've seen the way the boy has been... progressing. He's such an oddity here, and many of his peers, and even a few of the masters, have been unsure of how to treat him. Which has perhaps prevented him from integrating as well as he should. And then there is Palpatine...."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "What does Palpatine have to do with this?"

"When he gave up the throne on Naboo and returned to the Senate to become Supreme Chancellor, he took to visiting Anakin. He'd been close to the boy's family, after all. After Anakin's father died, he took to spending even more time with him, claiming that he was standing in as his father would have wished for him to."

Something about that last comment made Qui-Gon take notice. "He claimed? Don't you believe him?"

Dooku gave a wry smile. "Let's just say that I've never really trusted politicians. And it's unfortunate that the Supreme Chancellor, whom the boy looks up to on a number of levels, is feeding his sense that he's unappreciated by the Jedi. He doesn't seem to understand that becoming a knight isn't about who's the strongest, and he resents that his strength in the Force isn't lauded as he feels it should be."

Qui-Gon nodded, trying to erase the sound of the boy's whine from his mind. He had a feeling that he would be hearing a lot of it in years to come. He wasn't sure he was up to training this boy as he should be. It would take someone with a great deal of patience to undo the damage that had been done in Anakin's upbringing. He'd thought that leaving him in the Temple to be trained had been the best solution, but he wasn't so sure of that now. Especially when he considered years of listening to that whine. He sighed again, trying to resign himself.

"No one's expecting to take him, you know. You don't have to."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Am I that obvious?"

Dooku just looked at him.

He had never been able to read his former master. When Dooku didn't want you to know what he was thinking, he could be a complete cipher. "He needs a master."

"And he shall have one. I will take him." Dooku paused for a moment, amusement playing across his face. "After all, I'm used to dealing with whiny apprentices."

"Thank you, Master. I love you, too."

Dooku laughed at that. "Seriously, I do have more experience in dealing with arrogant, know-it-all apprentices. I believe I might be able to do well by the boy."

Qui-Gon knew who he was referring to. "I thought you said you wouldn't take another after Xanatos, after he turned against you. Against us. After he...."

"Attacked me? Yes, I had said that. Having to face your own student... it's something I hope you never experience. But if things start to go wrong again, at least this time I'll know what to do. He does need to be trained, and I am perhaps the best suited to the task."

Qui-Gon tried to resist this tempting offer. He had been sure he was destined to train Anakin, he'd felt the Force whisper that to him. But then maybe he'd heard it wrong. Or maybe it was one of those shifting futures that Yoda was always talking about. His relief at the thought of not having to train the boy was too great to be ignored, though. "Thank you, Master."

Dooku gave a bow of his head. "Like you, I do as my master advises."

"Yoda asked you to take him?"

A sly smile was on Dooku's lips this time. "Yoda is much concerned about Anakin."

Qui-Gon just nodded, used to the man's evasiveness. He gave a wistful sigh. "I had wanted an apprentice, though."

"You'll have one. I can see it. But you are such an active agent for the Jedi; you need someone more mature, an apprentice who will not hold you back. We both know that the life of a Jedi is dangerous. Sometimes things happen. Sometimes apprentices need new masters. Perhaps one of those would be better for you."

A stirring of the Force, some vague feeling of the future, caused Qui-Gon to smile. "I think you are right, my master."

::::::::::  
Obi-Wan stood on the stage, hand trailing down the flesh visible between the open placket of his shirt. The clingy garment left quite a bit of flesh showing, the gold of his skin glowing against the white material. Two fingers formed a V around one of his nipples, and he squeezed, his sigh lost in the collective one from his audience.

He canted his hips, the tight white leggings he wore emphasizing what was underneath. He pulled the microphone stand back towards himself, holding the head of the microphone close to his lips. He sang, his voice husky, his eyes closed, his face tight with emotion.

You gave me this, made me give  
Your silver grin still sticking it in

He threw an arm out, as if imploring his audience, and he heard the rising voices, the cries from the crowd.

The longest kiss, peeling furniture days  
Drift madly to you, pollute my heart drain  
You have broken at me, broken me

He sank to his knees, legs splayed wide, the tight leggings now leaving even less to the imagination. His eyes were open now, searching, and the audience called to him, hoping to be the center of that attention.

All your mental armor drags me down  
We can't breathe when you come around  
All your mental armor drags me down  
Nothing hurts like your mouth

He sank forward on his hands, the microphone beneath him, a supplicant to the audience who worshipped him.

The song ended, and he stood, his stage persona dropping away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Gart had caught his signals, and was in the middle of setting up the deal. Gart would see to it that the kid was off the planet before morning. Obi-Wan felt a sense of accomplishment. Another one he'd help get free of the guild system. If only.... He shook the thought away, not wanting to go there tonight.

He was sidestepping a group of too ardent admirers when he saw Yarl. Not that Yarl saw Obi-Wan, considering he was looking right at Gart. Oh, that was trouble. The kid hadn't mentioned any trouble with the Thieves' Guild, but that didn't really mean anything with Yarl. The man was determined to make Obi-Wan's life as difficult as possible, and if he caught either Obi-Wan or one of his people helping to smuggle someone off the planet, well, life would be very difficult indeed. Especially after last time. 

Moving fast, Obi-Wan managed to get in front of Yarl, slowing down at the end to make it look casual. "Yarl. A pleasure to see you."

Yarl just growled and attempted to move around him, but Obi-Wan stood firmly in his way. "Why are you rushing off? After coming all this way to see me, it would be rude of you to leave so soon. Or did you just come to hear me sing? If I'd known that you liked my music, I would have sent you a recording."

"Get out of my way, you little slut, unless you want to be in more trouble with your master."

Obi-Wan widened his eyes innocently. "I'm never in trouble with my master. Belo knows I'm one of the most popular performers in the Entertainers' Guild. He never lays a hand on me."

Yarl stopped to argue despite himself. His hatred of Obi-Wan hadn't diminished over the years, and he loved to dish out whatever grief he could. "Not that old fart. Your real master, Malan. Eventually you're going to get into so much trouble that not even the First of the Assassins' Guild will be able to save you. And I'll be there waiting when it happens."

Obi-Wan just smiled. "Malan isn't my master. He's just a patron."

Bitter laughter followed that. "Yes, a patron. He bought out your debt. He got you into the Entertainers' Guild. He got your punishment reduced to a beating when you tried to break your contract with your Guild. He..."

Eyes narrowed, smile gone, Obi-Wan had to hold onto his temper with both hands. "I'm well aware of what he's done for me."

"And to you."

That managed to put the smile back on Obi-Wan's face. "Oh, is that your problem? You're jealous of our relationship. You should have said something. I'm sure if you made him the right offer, he'd at least consider fucking you."

Goaded beyond his control, Yarl attacked. He only managed to get one slap in, however, before one of the club's bouncers was there. Yarl was big, but the bouncer was much bigger, a veritable mountain. Trying to regain a little dignity, Yarl allowed himself to be led from the club without further argument.

Nursing a split lip, Obi-Wan watched him go, well aware that Gart was long gone, and they were all safe. Well, as safe as they could be on this Force forsaken planet. He laughed inwardly at his turn of phrase. He'd felt that loss of the Force every day for the past four years, and he still couldn't get used to it. Couldn't get used to living without something that had been with him his whole life.

Couldn't get used to living without someone that had been his whole life. But thinking about Xanatos now would just make things worse. Yarl had already brought up some bad memories, and he didn't need to add more to the mix.

But his thoughts weren't his to control tonight. He remembered far too well that last day together, that last moment. The promise that he'd made. He was afraid if he stayed here much longer, he would walk too far down that wrong path his master had warned him of. He needed to get away. 

Needed to, yes. Been able to, no. During his time on Duvalpore, he'd tried to escape many times, but, between Yarl and Malan, he was watched too closely, and he'd never succeeded. The last time he'd tried, he'd... they'd actually stolen a ship, had even made it into the upper atmosphere, but the ship had been brought down before they could go any further. And the price they'd paid for that excursion had been too high. Or rather the price that his friend Vant had paid.

He'd learned his lesson then. No more escape attempts until he had a better system in place. And no more allowing anyone too close. If it was a lonely life, if it had hardened him even further than his childhood had, if it wasn't the life he would have chosen to live, too much down the dark path Xanatos had warned him about, it was still a life, and he wouldn't have anyone else suffer for his actions. Only so far down that path, and no farther. As he'd promised.

Tired out by his performances, both on and off the stage, Obi-Wan went back to his flat, but Malan was there when he arrived. Just what he needed tonight.

He allowed himself to be pulled into a deep kiss, not willing to argue about his bad mood and his lack of desire, but Malan must have sensed something anyway, because he pulled away, giving Obi-Wan a veiled look.

He rubbed a long finger over Obi-Wan's split lip. "You need to be careful around Yarl, love. He watches you closely, and I can't protect you if you break Guild rules openly."

Not in the least surprised that Malan already knew what had happened, Obi-Wan just nodded, well aware of Yarl's obsessive scrutiny. He still bore marks acquired because that scrutiny was just a little too good, marks that showed the limits of Malan's protection. It was a lesson he wouldn't likely forget, hard won as it was. 

Malan pulled him closer, running warm hands down his tense back, massaging until the muscles loosened. Much taller than Obi-Wan, he curled himself around him, cocooning him in the black clothes of his Guild, in the muscles of his build, in his very intense presence. Obi-Wan felt himself responding despite his exhaustion, but he still held back, the evening's dark thoughts still hovering around him. 

Malan just smiled at him, the full lips in the thin face making the smile seem all the larger. The very white teeth, and the strength of the smile, seemed to light the darkness that comprised him; the dark clothing, the inky hair, the dusky skin. His smile turned strong, harsh features into something almost beautiful.

"Am I so horrible, little one?"

"No, of course not," was the immediate reply, the expected one, but Obi-Wan wondered. Was Malan so horrible? He'd had Obi-Wan beaten for his escape attempts. But he could have done worse, and probably should have from the Guilds' point of view. He'd had Vant killed. But Vant's death had kept Obi-Wan from that same punishment. Could Obi-Wan blame Malan for choosing his lover over another? 

"Then why do you dream so much of escape? You live in a beautiful apartment, with beautiful things. You have work that you enjoy. You have men who would throw themselves at your feet for a moment of your time, myself included. Do you think the rest of the galaxy would offer you so much?"

Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of Malan throwing himself at anyone's feet, but it faded when he thought about why he needed to get away from Duvalpore. And it wasn't just his promise to Xanatos. He missed the Force almost as much as he missed his friend. "I don't belong here."

Malan nodded, too much a realist to deny that truth. "You're right, of course, but you are here. And you're an apprentice, under contract, and only seventeen. But it will only be eight more years before you can choose to leave on your own. Can't you wait until then? Can you not make the best of things?" And then he kissed him, those lips swallowing Obi-Wan's. When they came up for air, he said, "I want you. You know how that outfit affects me. Affects most people who see it... with the possible exception of Yarl, and I'm not too sure about him. Part of his hate could be thwarted desire."

Obi-Wan didn't want to think about Yarl in that light. He didn't want to think about Yarl at all. Or about anything but the skillful hands manipulating his now achingly hard penis. He would have been disgusted with himself for being aroused in the middle of such dark thoughts, but he knew that at his age, hormones pretty much kept him hard, regardless of what he was doing. Regardless of the bad associations he used to have with sex. He'd abandoned pride and fear to biology long ago.

Yet more things he'd given up in his time here. He'd have liked for this whole thing, for the sex, to be more than it was, he'd have liked for it to relieve the loneliness. But he knew better. And he knew he'd take the momentary pleasure, and make the best of it, as Malan had said.

If... when he got away from here, maybe then he could have more.


	9. IX. Repetend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things happen. Again.

Well, that mission had been a disaster. They had been sent in to negotiate a trade dispute, but things had gotten out of hand quickly. It seemed that both parties had decided that the word negotiate meant to use large, blunt instruments against each other. Or a blaster, whichever came to hand first. And they hadn't taken kindly to two Jedi masters and one padawan trying to dissuade them from their definition. The Jedi had barely made it off the planet alive, though their ship wasn't quite so lucky.

Anakin was at the nav comp looking for a likely planet to land on, the closer the better. "Here's one. It's not a Republic world, and there's not much information on it, but it's a trade center, and we should be able to get the parts we need there."

Dooku turned and looked at his apprentice. "And what is the name of this haven?"

Anakin just grinned at his master's sarcasm. "It's called Duvalpore."

::::::::::

The ship was limping its way to Duvalpore, and those on board were hoping they arrived at the planet before the ship decided to stop moving altogether. They were still about an hour out, and Qui-Gon was seriously beginning to think he might break down before the ship did. If he had to listen to yet another hour of Anakin's ever-present whine, he might just be tempted to get out and walk.

"And did you notice that Master Windu just ignored me altogether when he was giving the mission briefing. You would think a member of the Council would have better manners. I realize that I'm not a master, but I am a Jedi, the same as he is, the same as you are. I do the same work as a knight does, better than some of those even, and as such, I deserve the same acknowledgment that they do."

Qui-Gon stared at the boy, not knowing if Anakin really believed there was no difference between an apprentice of two years and a knight, even one that had only recently passed his trials. Surely the boy's ego wasn't so inflated that he thought he was at that level already. Not that Qui-Gon didn't think that Mace was rude, but he hadn't seen anything in their mission briefing that was out of the ordinary, either.

Anakin frowned when he realized that Qui-Gon had stopped listening to him. He started to say something, but a look from his master shut him up. Qui-Gon could only be grateful to his former master. The silence that descended was a balm to his nerves.

He didn't want to think poorly of Dooku, after all the man had trained him, and well, if he did say so himself, but hadn't his master taken Anakin as an apprentice to correct him of behavior like this? It had been two years now, and yet Anakin appeared as arrogant, and whiny, as he had been at eleven. Maybe even more so. 

Perhaps Dooku hadn't been the right choice for Anakin's master. Maybe his arrogance was just exacerbating the boy's, and Anakin didn't have Dooku's control to offset it. And maybe there was a reason that Xanatos had...

Qui-Gon shook his head. Just because Anakin was behaving badly was no reason to be having thoughts like that about his master. Ok, he couldn't remember Dooku allowing him to get away with even a little of what he let Anakin by with, but maybe his memories of that time were a little clouded. It had been more years ago than he cared to admit to when his own vanity was coming into play. Just because Xanatos had turned didn't mean that Dooku had lost any of his ability to train. And it didn't mean that Anakin was going to wind up the same way. 

And it wasn't as if Qui-Gon had any experience with which to judge Dooku by, anyway. He'd never taken an apprentice, though he'd almost done so twice. He smiled, thinking it odd that Dooku had wound up taking both of Qui-Gon's choices of padawan as his own. It was like fate, almost. The smile turned wistful when he thought about the missed opportunities. 

He'd taken his master's advice to heart and had been looking to the older students to see if he could find an apprentice from their ranks. There had been those who'd needed a new master, either through the death of their own master or through incompatibility issues, but he'd not heard the Force calling him to any of them. He was probably expecting too much. This wasn't a fantasy, a bad romance novel, where he'd take one look into someone's eyes and immediately know that s/he was the one. Real life required work, and any of those students would have probably done well with him. He needed to stop being so picky.

But looking at Anakin, sulking in the co-pilot's seat, made him doubt the wisdom of that. Maybe he just wasn't cut out to be a master.

All of his musings were cut short as he felt a strange sensation. Something like pain, but not quite, it was skewing his connection with the Force. He could tell by the looks on the others' faces that they felt it, too.

Anakin looked scared, the most sensible reaction Qui-Gon had seen yet out of him. "Master, what is it?"

Dooku looked just as confused as they were. "I have no idea. It's nothing I've ever encountered."

The ship beeped, letting them know they were arriving at Duvalpore, but the closer they got, the more intense the sensation became. Qui-Gon felt years of practice keeping his emotions in check being eroded as he lost his connection to the Force. It was in a voice that held a small note of panic that he said, "It's the planet. Something about the planet is interfering with our connection to the Force."

Anakin looked even more frightened. "What are we going to do? We can't land there, can we?"

Dooku looked over the failing lights of the ship's boards. "We have no choice. We'll just have to make do the best we can. After all, most people live their entire lives without feeling the Force as we do. Surely we can go the short time it will take us to get the ship fixed." 

Both of his students, the former and the current, looked relieved at his words. Qui-Gon berated himself for needing to be reminded of something so obvious. His master might not be training Anakin the way Qui-Gon himself would, but there was a reason the man was a master after all, and Qui-Gon could still learn a thing or two even after all this time.

After the ship set down, or, more accurately, after the ship all but crashed in the spaceport, they set about making a list of the most critical repairs, not wanting to stay on Duvalpore any longer than necessary. Parts list in hand, they went out to find what they needed.

As they walked through the busy spaceport, they could feel eyes following them. Qui-Gon noticed that many of those eyes were directed at Anakin, and wondered at it. While the boy was certainly attractive enough, he wasn't so far above the norm that he should be garnering this kind of attention. 

Anakin had noticed the looks also, and was giving his best disdainful look at anyone he caught staring at him. It eerily matched the same look on Dooku's face. Qui-Gon laughed to himself at how alike the two had become. You could have thought they were related.

Before they had even got out of the port, though, they were stopped. A man wearing overalls with the port's logo approached them, holding out his hand for them to stop. He was middle-aged, a little plump, and pleasant looking. He looked like someone's grandfather, but Qui-Gon knew better than to be fooled by looks. The man smiled. "I'm Rade, Tenth in the Transportation Guild. I need to see your ID."

Not wanting to cause problems, Dooku nodded, and they all handed theirs over. Rade gave a cursory check to Dooku's and Qui-Gon's, but he looked closely at Anakin's, which surprised Qui-Gon. Did this have something to do with the stares?

Rade handed the ID back. His face still had a smile, but it was also wary, and he looked around him before he continued. "For your own sakes, I hope your business here is quick. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave the planet before tomorrow's up."

They looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but the man was watching someone in the distance, and he wasn't saying any more. Qui-Gon thought about the time limit, remembering the careful study of Anakin's ID. In two days the boy would turn thirteen. He didn't think it was a coincidence that that event occurred the day after Rade had told them to leave by. 

Anakin was looking at his master, frowning, and whispered in his usual penetrating voice, "I didn't want to spend my birthday on a backwater world like this anyway."

Rade looked irritated with the slight on his planet, but Qui-Gon stepped in to try to smooth things over. He believed the man was trying to help, even if he was doing it in an obscure way. "We thank you for the advice. I don't suppose you could tell us why we should leave before then, could you?"

Before Rade could reply, another man approached. Rade's face went totally blank, but the tension in his body told Qui-Gon that this wasn't a good thing. 

"Is there any trouble here?"

Rade shook his head. "Nothing for you here, Velen. They were just asking some directions."

Velen looked closely at them, staring blatantly at Anakin, before he nodded and went off.

Rade turned back to them, and said, "Remember my warning. You'll do well to heed it."

Qui-Gon thanked him, and as Rade left, he thought it was odd that even without the Force to help him, he was getting a bad feeling about this place.

::::::::::

"I'm telling you, I didn't steal anything."

Qui-Gon heard Anakin's voice before he came into sight. He'd known that it was a mistake to let the boy go out alone, but, then, he wasn't the boy's master.

They'd gotten the parts they needed, and had started their repairs. When Anakin had asked if he could go to one of the shops in the port to get something fresh to eat, Dooku had nodded though Qui-Gon had asked if he thought that was a good idea. 

Dooku had just given him a haughty look. "I heard the warning as well, Qui-Gon. But the boy's just going to be gone for a couple of minutes, and he's not going very far. It hasn't even been a day yet, so we're not even close to his deadline, for what that's worth."

"As Rade's a local, with a local's knowledge of the way things are, I think we would do well to heed his advice."

Dooku smiled at Qui-Gon. "You always were a worrier. But you needn't here. I am heeding his advice, and we will be under way before too long. I just don't think it would be too dangerous for the boy to get a quick snack."

And that had been the end of it. Until Anakin hadn't come back. After half an hour had passed without any sign of him, Qui-Gon had ignored Dooku's laughter at his concern and gone looking for the boy.

And found him, his arm held tight by the security officer they'd met earlier that day. What had Rade called him? Velen. He approached them, holding tightly onto his calm façade, though inside he was sure this was going to be very bad. "May I ask what the problem is, Sir?"

Velen turned to him, a sly smile on his face. "This young man, he was with you, wasn't he?" At Qui-Gon's nod, he continued. "Well, I caught him stealing." He held up a handful of tiny figurines. Qui-Gon was almost diverted from his worry by his amusement that anyone would want a bunch of little dolls that looked amazing like Yoda, if Yoda had red skin and a large tuft of purple hair standing up on top of his head.

Before Qui-Gon could respond, Anakin did. "I didn't steal anything, Master Jinn. For one thing, I wouldn't. And for another thing, if I had, I certainly wouldn't have stolen something like that. I have better taste. This man's obviously trying to run some kind of racket, and not doing a very good job of it."

Though Qui-Gon could only agree with the sentiment, he had to wonder at the lack of sense the boy was showing. Yes, it probably was a racket, but it didn't do to antagonize your opponent, especially when he was a security officer, and especially when you didn't even know what the local laws were. Before Anakin could say anything else, insulting or otherwise, Qui-Gon said, "I'm sure there's a mistake here, Officer...?"

"Velen. I'm Seventeenth in the Security Guild."

Qui-Gon noted the reference to guilds. Rade had also said something about them, but without more information, Qui-Gon didn't know what it meant. "Officer Velen. Anakin was only out here to buy some food, which he has money for. I'm sure that he wouldn't have been stealing anything."

Velen's smile just got larger. "Well I'm sure he would. And as I'm Seventeenth in the Security Guild, and you're just an outsider, my surety outweighs yours. I'll be taking the boy with me. You can come and get him when you pay his fine."

Qui-Gon didn't protest the lack of fairness, the lack of trial, or their lack of money, positive that his protests would mean nothing. He'd seen this type of system before, and Anakin had been right, it was a racket. "And what would the fine be?"

Velen's grin threatened to take over his face. "One hundred Guild tokens, which you probably don't have, but I will take Republic currency. It's two thousand Republic credits."

Again, Qui-Gon kept his dismay off his face, but it took all of his years of experience to do so. Two thousand credits was a fortune, and even before they'd bought the parts for their ship, they wouldn't have had that kind of money. They were going to have to figure a way around this man.

A quick comm call to Dooku had him on the scene quickly. Dooku obviously didn't share Qui-Gon's resigned view about arguing with Velen, and Qui-Gon left him to it. He'd caught sight of Rade, and slowly made his way over to him, not wanting anyone to question what he was doing.

Rade looked at him as he approached, his face grim. "I hope you have a lot of money."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No where near what he's asking. What do you suggest we might do in lieu of paying the fine?"

Rade just shook his head. "If you can't pay the boy's fine, he'll have to stay with Velen. Then, when he turns thirteen, Velen will apprentice him to the Workers' Guild and take most of the money he earns there. The boy would be lucky if he'd paid off the fine before his apprenticeship was up."

"Is there no way around it? What if we take him and leave?"

"Then you'll be caught, as they're watching you closely now. And you'll be in as much trouble as he is, and you won't have the value the boy has. You'll spend the rest of your life in debt. And if you tried to leave before it was paid... well, when you enter a Guild, you're placed under contract, and your debt would be part of that contract. If you broke it, the best you could hope for is another fine. The worst... well, the First of your Guild could have you killed if he chose to. And most of them would choose it, lest someone question their right to be First."

Qui-Gon was appalled, and he failed to hide it. He was speechless in the face of the seriousness of what they faced.

Rade took pity on him. "You could just leave the boy." He saw the horror on Qui-Gon's face and nodded. "Ok, so that's out, but you could-"

He was cut off as Dooku called out to Qui-Gon to come. Velen was pulling Anakin along by his arm, and Dooku was following after. Qui-Gon turned to follow them, but his own arm was grabbed by Rade. "If all else fails, go to The Cantina. Ask for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi. He might just be your only hope."


	10. X. Conjunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coincidence of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in the same place.

Qui-Gon had a hard time finding The Cantina. It didn't look anything like the nightclubs he was used to. In fact, it looked decidedly like a junk shop, even on the inside. The chairs and tables that were spread out across the floor just added to the impression. But there was a bar running along two sides of the large empty space, framing a stage that ran the length of a third side. 

It was the stage that really drew his attention. It looked ready to fall apart, making it fit right in with the general décor, but the figure upon it was anything but junk. Dressed in white, his youthful face should have appeared innocent, but the tightness of his clothes and the sensual way he moved belied that. And the body that showed clearly beneath those clothes certainly didn't lead Qui-Gon to innocent thoughts. 

It was hard for Qui-Gon to get a good look at his face, considering the man's shoulder length hair kept falling in it as he moved through what appeared to be some kind of exercise routine. Or maybe a kata. Actually, it looked just like one of the fourth level katas they taught at the Temple. For a moment Qui-Gon wondered how someone from this remote place could have learned a Jedi kata, but then he shook his head. There were only so many ways a humanoid body could move, after all; the forms were bound to get duplicated. It was simply coincidence.

As the kata drew to a close, the man looked up to see Qui-Gon, who was struck both by an arresting pair of eyes, and by the look of sharp surprise and what seemed to be even sharper pain that ran across that face. 

He bowed. "Forgive me for interrupting you. I was told that I could find someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi at The Cantina. Have I found the right place?"

Face losing all trace of emotion, the man bowed in return. "Yes. What do you need Obi-Wan for?"

Qui-Gon just smiled. "That's something I'd rather talk to him about."

"As you wish. But if you don't talk to me, you won't talk to him."

Qui-Gon stared as a sly smile flirted around those lovely lips. He mentally shook his head, reminding himself that he was far too busy for this kind of thing. And, if he were being perfectly honest, a little too old. "And how do I know that's true? Maybe you're just a curious being, and I could talk to Obi-Wan without going through you at all."

The smile grew larger, the eyes almost twinkling with amusement. "Feel free to ask around."

As there was no one else in the place but the two of them, being much too early in the afternoon for the club's normal clientele, Qui-Gon knew he was stuck. "All right. A man told me that Obi-Wan Kenobi might be able to help me out. I have a friend who is being detained for something he didn't do, and a fine is being charged to him that is far beyond our means to pay. I was hoping to be able to get my friend out of this situation without resorting to violence. We'd just like to repair our ship and leave, without any more trouble."

All trace of amusement had slipped off the other man's face, and he almost ran to one of the windows, cautiously looking out into the street. "Sith!"

Qui-Gon started at both the anger in the voice and the expression used, but he didn't have a chance to respond before the man turned to him and asked, "Did you come straight here from the Security offices?"

"Yes. We didn't feel like we should waste any time. Things might only get worse."

Those arresting eyes were blazing now, and sarcasm was dripping from his voice. "Yes, they certainly have. Is this what passes for a Jedi? Take away the Force and you're left with a fool, who doesn't have the least bit of common sense."

Qui-Gon was again surprised, though he felt he should be used to being unsettled by this young man. "How did you know I was a Jedi? And what do you mean no common sense-?"

He was cut off before he could go any further. "I know Jedi robes when I see them. Force knows I've seen enough pictures." The man stopped, looking haunted. "Enough, and not enough."

Unable to help himself, Qui-Gon reached out a hand, meaning to comfort the pain that was clearly showing, but it disappeared as the man pulled away from his touch. "And how much intelligence does it take to figure out that if you're being hustled for money by the Security Guild, that they won't just let you walk away without having someone watch you."

Chagrinned, Qui-Gon took his turn in looking out the window. Even without his knowledge of the locals, he could see that the man standing across the street, looking intently at the entrance to the club, was not just thinking about getting a drink. "Damn. You're right. I've become too used to having the Force to rely on. I was careless."

It was the man's turn to look surprised again, though it quickly disappeared. "Yes. Still, I might be able to work around it."

Qui-Gon smiled, finally figuring out what had amused the man so much before. "A pleasure to meet you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

A grin to go with the amused expression this time. "I cannot return the greeting, I'm sorry to say."

Qui-Gon nodded, knowing he deserved the censure for being careless.

But the grin just got wider. "Because you didn't tell me your name."

For the first time since landing on this planet, Qui-Gon felt as if something were going right. He didn't know what sense was speaking to him, considering that he couldn't feel the Force, but something was telling him that things were going to work out. Telling him that this man, this almost-boy, would help them out. Would help him out. Well, that last part was probably just his libido speaking, but the rest of it felt true. Returning the grin, he said, "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Now I need details, Qui-Gon Jinn. I need to know which Security officer or officers are involved, where they're holding your friend, what they charged him with, and what fine they're asking for."

When Qui-Gon filled him in, Obi-Wan looked decidedly paler. Worried, Qui-Gon asked, "Is it beyond your ability to help, then?"

Obi-Wan just shook his head. "No, but Velen's a problem. I've dealt with him before. How old is your friend?"

"Thirteen. Well, he'll be thirteen tomorrow. The man at the port, Rade, said that we should get him away before then."

"You'll definitely need to get him away before then." He seemed to know that Qui-Gon was confused, though Qui-Gon was sure it didn't show on his face. "On Duvalpore, the Guilds are everything."

Qui-Gon nodded. Rade had said the same thing.

Obi-Wan continued. "Visitors are allowed to stay for only two weeks before they're considered residents, and then have to join a Guild. If you get a fine levied against you, and you can't pay it, you have to join a Guild for employment, regardless of how long you've been here, to pay off the debt. But if you're thirteen or older, you're automatically put into the Workers' Guild, unless you can buy your way into another one. However, if you had the money for that, you most likely wouldn't have a debt in the first place, as a Guild position is worth a great deal of coin."

Qui-Gon nodded, understanding that he hadn't heard everything yet. "And why is it so bad to go into the Workers' Guild?"

"For an adult over twenty-five, nothing, except that it's menial, low-paid work. Under twenty-five, and you're an apprentice, with no say over what kind of work you're given. Because the boy would owe a debt to Velen, Velen would hold his contract until the fine was paid off. Velen, being ambitious, will put the boy where he can make the most money for him, which is in the dockside brothels. That's why you need to get him away."

Qui-Gon was horrified. Sometimes Anakin irritated him, but he'd be damned if he'd let someone abuse him like that. Something in Obi-Wan's expression made Qui-Gon wonder what Guild he belonged to, and what job his master had him doing, but he couldn't deal with that now. "Can you help?"

Obi-Wan paused before answering. He had a speculative look in his eyes, and something that looked a little like fear. "I can help. But there is something I want to ask in return."

"If I can give it, it's yours to have."

Obi-Wan smiled again. "Such courtly manners. Just like..." The smile faltered a little, before he continued. "I want off this planet, and I'm not allowed to leave per my contract. Every time I've tried to stowaway, or steal a ship, the attempt's failed. If I left with you, I would be doing neither, and perhaps I might succeed."

Qui-Gon was surprised. Again. Obi-Wan really was defying his expectations. "Of course. You would be welcome."

"Go back to your ship, and get the other Jedi to go with you. Let Velen think he's won. I'll bring the boy to you. Expect us around 10 tonight. And it would probably be more than a little helpful if you finished the repairs before then."

Laughing, Qui-Gon nodded. "Just for you. We'll be waiting." He took one more look, trying to rein in his excited nerves. It would be a long wait until 10. He was impatient to have Anakin back. Impatient to be off this planet.

And, Force take him for an old, lecherous fool, impatient to see more of Obi-Wan.

::::::::::

When Qui-Gon left, Obi-Wan immediately started contacting his people. He'd have to call in every favor he was owed for this. Hell, he'd have to ask for some, too. And he wouldn't be mentioning that he wasn't planning on being around long enough to pay them back. Vizn, his contact in the Security Guild, tried to call in his favor right then, but he always asked for that. All Obi-Wan had to do was mention Malan, and things proceeded without any more references to his ass.

Qui-Gon had certainly been interesting. Obi-Wan grinned to himself. And pretty hot, too. His reaction to the other man surprised him a little, as he'd never really been prone to looking at other men with lust. Oh, Malan could get him to feel it, sure enough, and it wasn't as if Obi-Wan hated the idea of sex anymore, but his sexual urges had pretty much all been at Malan's instigation. Well, he was getting older, just a year away from twenty now; it was probably just nature asserting itself. Another grin. Or maybe he'd just never met anyone as attractive as Qui-Gon.

Sure, the man had been a little irritating at first, but Obi-Wan could understand that sometimes you made bad decisions when you were pushed hard enough. Hadn't he lived through much the same situation before? If he had his say about it, and he was damned determined to do so, this time the ending would be much better. He'd save the Jedi, as he hadn't been able to save Xanatos. For his master's sake.

After all, he had pretty much promised his master that he would try to be a Jedi, if he could. And here was just about the perfect opportunity, not only to get away from Duvalpore, but to at least try to get in with the group his master had left. Why Obi-Wan should want to join a group that Xanatos hadn't even stayed with was beyond him, but much of what Xanatos had been thinking eluded Obi-Wan. 

He felt the old anger at Xanatos, but it was distant, more a memory than an actual feeling. He'd dealt with it years before; it's absence leaving only the love behind. And the sorrow. For a while, when he'd first had to live with his decisions after his master's death, he'd been so angry he'd nearly hated Xanatos. Angry at his constant quest to get to Coruscant, which had led them time and again into bad situations, as if the Force itself didn't want them to get there. Angry over the decision that had led them to Sintane, to the fever that nearly killed Xanatos, and the thieving Obi-Wan had had to do to support them. Angry at the stupid journey that had then led them, however inadvertently, to Kushor-An, and the nearly unbearable existence there. 

Angry that, just months after they'd gotten free from that seemingly eternal hell, they'd come here. Here where Xanatos had lost his life, and Obi-Wan had lost what little bit of childhood he'd had left. Oh, yes, he'd been angry enough to curse his master many times. But like his grief, it had faded with time.

He'd survived, and even managed to survive well. He'd always known that life wasn't fair, but knowing it and accepting it were two different things. But he'd learned. And when things had gotten tough, when the physical punishments for trying to escape had left him sore and bleeding, he'd learned it again. And when Vant had paid the price that should have been Obi-Wan's to pay for that final escape attempt... he'd choked on it, and railed against it, but he'd learned it again, all the same.

But this time he wouldn't accept that life wasn't fair. He was going to make it so. This time he would get away. He would. 

And if he didn't... he would pay his own price this time.


	11. XI. Sanction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans...

Anakin was a friendly, bright, gregarious child, Obi-Wan decided. He was also an arrogant brat, but it was Obi-Wan's job to get him to the Jedi, not to solve his personality problems. Listening to the br- the child go on and on about how rude Velen had been, and how Anakin had known that he and his master would beat the man in the end, Obi-Wan felt sorry for whoever would be responsible for correcting those problems. 

They were heading back to the Jedi's ship, with a little time to spare, and it looked like things were going to work out. Obi-Wan knew better than to trust what things looked like, and he kept his attention sharp as they made their way through the carefully chosen path to the ship. Anakin was still talking, but Obi-Wan was able to tune him out and concentrate on his task.

Not that his own thoughts weren't doing a good job of trying to distract him. He hated to admit it, but he was really scared. It wasn't just the fear of being caught, either. He'd lived on Duvalpore for six years now, nearly a third of his life. He didn't know what he'd be, what he'd do, when he got away from here. If the Jedi didn't take him in, or if he couldn't hack it as one, what skills did he have to offer for employment?

Well, he could sing. But what if singers weren't in particularly high demand in the Republic? Or what if there were Guilds there that he couldn't get into? Malan had been right; he'd never be able to live elsewhere as he did here.

But whatever he did, he wasn't using his other skills anymore. He'd already decided that he wouldn't go any further down the path Xanatos had warned him of. He'd been a thief and a murderer by five, a whore by thirteen. Oh, Malan might hate it when he called himself that, might say that they'd simply made an arrangement, but that was semantics. He'd sold himself to get away from Yarl, to get into a Guild where there was no chance that he would get sent to a brothel, no chance that he would wind up like his mother. Better one man than many.

He thought about Vant, about the life the other boy had lived as a dockside whore. How horrible that life must have been for him to agree to try one of Obi-Wan's notoriously unsuccessful escape attempts. How horrible that life must have been to make him prefer the punishment he'd received rather than go back to what he'd been. Even though it had killed him.

No, Obi-Wan didn't regret his decision. It had been his best option, and things had worked out, if not well, at least well enough. But he wouldn't do it again.

He managed to pull his thoughts away from himself and concentrated on what he should be doing. He couldn't define what, but there was something off about the corridor ahead. Obi-Wan stopped for a moment, reaching a hand out to hold Anakin back, trying to see what his paranoia was warning him of. Anakin sighed, obviously impatient to move on, but Obi-Wan wasn't going to be rushed, not when their lives were so much at stake.

When the boy started to say something again, Obi-Wan put the hand against Anakin's lips, stilling him. The whole tableau was still and silent.

Until Yarl walked into the hall. He had a prominent smirk on his face as he gloated. "I've finally caught you out, you little brat. You won't be able to get out of it this time. And Malan won't be able to get you free, either. His Guild won't let him stay First if he intercedes again."

Obi-Wan wasn't really listening to him, well used to Yarl's rants. Instead he was looking around, trying to figure the odds against their making use of several not-very-potential avenues of escape. He wasn't sure of what he should do. He was a good fighter, better than most, but Yarl was huge, and wasn't exactly bad at fighting either. And Anakin was an unknown element to be throwing into an already precarious situation. Things didn't look good for them.

Anakin sighed again, shifting in his impatience. He pulled Obi-Wan's hand away from his mouth, obviously determined to be heard. "You'd better get out of our way before my master gets here. He won't be happy with you if you try to hold us up anymore."

Yarl laughed, though he looked irritated. Hell, with the thin timbre of the boy's voice making even seemingly innocuous statements into a whine, even Obi-Wan was irritated by him, and he was actually on the boy's side.

Yarl stopped laughing abruptly. "I'm really shaking, kid." He shook his head. "Just let your master appear. I'll have him taken in along with you and Obi-Wan. It'll just mean more fines all the way around. But you don't have to worry about the money; all you have to worry about is lying back and taking it like a man. I already told Velen about a place that'll be just perfect. Oh, it might be a little rough on you, or a lot rough on you, actually, but the money'll make Velen happy. And, of course, I'll get a small fee for recommending it. Who knows, maybe you'll surprise everyone, and actually live for a year or two."

Anakin was speechless, his mouth opening and closing in his anger and shock, but Yarl had already turned back to Obi-Wan. "It's the same place Vant worked. You remember it don't you, Obi-Wan? You do remember Vant still, right?"

Up until then, Obi-Wan had been more scared than angry, seeking desperately for a way to escape from Yarl rather than have to fight him. But the reference to Vant, the implication that Obi-Wan had simply forgotten the friend who had died in his place, was more than his anger could bear. Without a thought for tactics or survival, he launched himself at Yarl, landing kicks and punches all over the massive frame. He managed to get in a fair number of hits before the inevitable happened, and Yarl started to land some hits of his own. The difference between the two was that Yarl seemed to be shaking off Obi-Wan's blows, and Obi-Wan was starting to go down under Yarl's. 

He was lying on the floor, head ringing, when a new participant joined the fight. Anakin was tall for a thirteen-year-old, almost as tall as Obi-Wan himself, but that didn't make him anywhere near Yarl's size. The boy was thrown back with little effort, the force of the shove sending him skidding along the smooth floor. 

He was about to attack again, but Obi-Wan called to him first. "Go back to the ship! Get Qui-Gon!" Dragging himself to his feet, preparing to face Yarl again, Obi-Wan could only hope that Qui-Gon would come back to help, and not just take off without him. Xanatos would never have left someone, or at least not someone who'd helped him, but then he hadn't been a Jedi. Not really.

But Anakin didn't leave. Instead, he ran directly at Yarl, shouting, "I'm a Jedi! I don't run." He actually managed to get in a couple of hits before Yarl smacked him again, a powerful backhand that snapped the boy's head back with a horrible crack before sending him crashing into the wall. 

When Anakin didn't get up, Yarl turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan would have liked to have seen if the boy was Ok, but Yarl had him down again, embarrassingly fast. The world was spinning, a Yarl-sized shape swirling over him, and he was trying to keep his stomach on the inside, when all of a sudden the Yarl-sized shape disappeared.

It took a moment for his dazed mind to figure out that someone else had joined in the fight. He didn't know whether or not to hope it was Anakin, his desire for the boy to be all right warring with not wanting him to go up against Yarl again. He was actually rooting for it to be Qui-Gon, because that would settle so many issues at once.

But when Obi-Wan's vision cleared, he saw that the man who had knocked his attacker down, and was in the process of doing so again, was Malan. Yarl fell under a quick, hard blow to the chest, his breath wheezing out of him.

Malan didn't look at Obi-Wan, keeping his attention on the man at his feet. He watched calmly as Yarl finally regained his breath.

Yarl was quick to use that breath. "I'll make sure you lose your place as First. Your Second is already on my side, especially as he owes me more than one favor. You might as well kiss your position goodbye."

Malan just smiled at him. "My Second met with a terrible accident earlier today. He unfortunately, for him that is, collided with his own knife. It seems he mistook me for its sheath, but fortunately, for me that is, I was able to return it, though I did miss the sheath. Oops."

Someone who didn't know how dangerous Malan was could very well have mistaken his demeanor as pleasant. Yarl wasn't laboring under that misapprehension. His face was clearly showing his fear, as his bravado fled under the very real threat he faced.

With a pleasant-looking smile, Malan said, "I didn't get to be First by buying my way up, unlike some people. I got my position by my skill. And I've had that position since long before you even came to Duvalpore. Arrogance such as yours is a weakness. A weakness your First has been careful to exploit, ever since he started to hear some disconcerting rumors about your plans for him."

Yarl was shaking his head now, his entire body trembling with fear. Obi-Wan remembered that he'd been this way with Xanatos; all threat and bluster until he faced an actual challenge, and then he backed down very quickly. Seeing the look on Malan's face, Obi-Wan knew what came next, and so did Yarl. He scrambled across the floor, trying to regain his feet, but Malan had his blaster out, the shot hitting Yarl in the chest before he could make it. 

Obi-Wan clinically noted that the shot that killed Yarl was in the same place as the shot that killed Xanatos. He wondered if it was an accident, or if Malan was giving him a small token of revenge. He wished he could revel in it, could be happy that the man who'd done so much to ruin his life was dead, but he didn't feel anything but numb. 

It all started to catch up to him, and he could feel himself shaking, having trouble keeping on his feet. Malan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as running footsteps approached. Qui-Gon and another man, probably the other Jedi, raced around the corner at full speed, but came to a sudden stop at the scene before them.

The other Jedi went over to Anakin, but Obi-Wan could now clearly see that it was too late. The head was bent at too sharp an angle; the boy was dead. 

Qui-Gon approached the other man, laying a hand on his shoulder to offer some comfort. "I'm very sorry, Master."

The master ignored him, stroking a hand along Anakin's cheek. There were tears in his eyes, running down his face, as he sat and rocked beside the boy. "He was to be my apprentice. He would have been the one."

Qui-Gon looked confused, but he continued to grip the other man's shoulder. "He was your apprentice, Master. He always will be." He ran a hand over the bowed head before him. "Come, Dooku, we'll take him back with us. He'll have a pyre, just as a Jedi should."

Dooku nodded. He picked up the boy, refusing any help, and carried him back in the direction of the ship.

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, his curious eyes resting on the man who stood behind him. "Are you coming, Obi-Wan?"

Before he could think of what to answer, Malan did it for him. "Yes. But give us a moment."

Qui-Gon nodded, but didn't leave, standing at a distance, keeping a wary eye on the corridor and its occupants.

Malan ignored him, turning back to Obi-Wan. He stroked a hand along Obi-Wan's cheek, eerily reminding him of Dooku doing the same to Anakin's. This morbid thought was interrupted by Malan leaning down and kissing him. When Obi-Wan didn't respond, he pulled back, looking sad. "Let me take my fill of you while I can." 

Nodding, Obi-Wan tipped up on his toes, returning the kiss. It became heated as he got caught up in the moment.

Malan pulled back again, running his hand over Obi-Wan's eyes, through his hair. "So beautiful. When I first made arrangements with you, I only did so as a favor to the First of the Thieves' Guild. Yarl was already making a bid for power at that time, and it was a way of throwing off his plans. Of putting him in his place."

He leaned in for another kiss, but kept it short, almost chaste. "How was I to know that that skinny little kid would grow up to look like you?" He paused for a minute, a look of pain washing across his face. "It wasn't all bad, was it, Obi-Wan?"

He could barely choke it out, caught up in Malan's emotions. "No. Not all." And, for once, he really meant it.

Malan nodded. "Try to remember me fondly then, as I will surely remember you."

And in that moment, all of the spying, the constraints, the fear, the punishments, were overshadowed by fondness. Obi-Wan knew that, with distance, it would all come back before it faded again with time. But maybe some of the fondness would remain.

Looking into Malan's eyes, he saw the deeper emotion there, and almost regretted that he couldn't return it. But he could give this. "I will miss nothing of Duvalpore, but you."

With a wistful smile, Malan said, "Go."

And without looking back, Obi-Wan did.


	12. XII. Intercourse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret to communication.

Qui-Gon hadn't known quite what to expect when they left the planet. He hadn't really given much thought as to what he'd feel when his connection to the Force was restored to him. 

If losing the connection to the Force had felt like almost pain, gaining it again felt like actual pain, the pins and needles sensation of blood returning to a limb magnified by a factor of ten. But for Obi-Wan it was more like a factor of 1000, a tidal wave of sensation, and he fell to the deck, one harsh scream torn from his throat before the pain carried him under. 

Dooku continued to pilot the ship, while Qui-Gon went to help Obi-Wan, both of them struggling to control their own pain. It was hard work in his condition, but Qui-Gon managed to get both himself and Obi-Wan seated in one of the chairs, at least some small level of comfort in the wake of too much sensation. 

Qui-Gon was stroking one of Obi-Wan's cheeks, until he realized that he was tracing the same path that the other man had. The man that had kissed Obi-Wan with such longing. Not that Qui-Gon had been watching, of course, but he had been keeping an eye out for danger, and they had been in his line of sight, and... Qui-Gon sighed, never one for lying to himself. He certainly didn't need his returning Force sense to realize that he was attracted to the man in his arms. 

He looked down at Obi-Wan, ignoring the attraction, wondering what he could do to help him now. And remembering. The exercise routine that had looked just like a kata. Obi-Wan knowing what Jedi robes looked like. 

Dooku's voice came from behind him. "A Force sensitive. A very powerful one." 

Qui-Gon nodded. "He said something to me about knowing what a Jedi robe looked like. Do you suppose...?" 

Dooku looked thoughtful. "That he was someone's padawan, stuck on Duvalpore after his master died?" 

"Yes." 

"Maybe." 

Qui-Gon looked up at his former master, a small smile playing on his lips. "An older apprentice, needing a new master. Just as you suggested to me when you took..." 

Sorrow traced across Dooku's face for a moment. "Anakin." 

"Yes. I'm sorry, Master." 

"As am I." 

Qui-Gon sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do for either Dooku or Obi-Wan at this moment. He stood, arranging Obi-Wan in the chair as comfortably as he could. "I'm going to go contact the Council, if I can. Let them know we're coming, and let them know about Anakin." 

Dooku nodded, but his face showed nothing now. "Good. I'm afraid I don't feel equal to it at the moment." 

Qui-Gon laid a hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze and left. 

He didn't see Dooku's speculative look after him, or the sly one he gave Obi-Wan. 

:::::::::: 

The first thing Obi-Wan was aware of was pain. Hurts, the only thought he was capable of. 

"I know. Lie still." 

He must have said it out loud if someone was answering him. He tried to see who it was, and after considerable effort, got his eyes open. Mostly. Qui-Gon was the first thing he saw, concern clearly visible on his face. It sent a small thrill through Obi-Wan, helping to chase back some of the pain. 

A hand carded through his hair, also a comfort. "How are you doing?" 

"It's been so long since I’d felt the Force. I'd forgotten what it was like. Or at least I don't remember it feeling this... strong." 

"How long were you on Duvalpore?" 

"Six years. A little more, really." 

Qui-Gon smiled. "Long enough. I was only there for two days, and I had trouble dealing with the return of my Force sense. You'll readjust. Just give it time." 

Obi-Wan let his eyes dip, a nod beyond him. "Hurts." His eyes closed, Qui-Gon's face cut off from him. But he heard that warm voice rumble something comforting at him, and felt that warm hand again on his hair, and he slept, feeling safe. 

:::::::::: 

The ship was fast and sleek, but even so, the journey to Coruscant was going to take a little time. Days out from Duvalpore, and many days away from the Temple, and Qui-Gon was heartily sick of the trip already. He had always hated flying, and it didn't matter if it was deep space or atmospheric flight, he'd rather not do it. Even on a ship as lovely as this one. It was a 'loaner' from the Supreme Chancellor, supposedly for the sake of their mission, but really because Anakin had asked for it. 

Qui-Gon once again felt the stab of sorrow for the loss of the boy. A child's death, even a child that hadn't been particularly likeable, was always so hard to accept, and Anakin had touched on so many lives. Qui-Gon knew his master wouldn't be the only one to grieve. 

The darkness of his thoughts and his boredom were both alleviated when Obi-Wan walked into the room. Qui-Gon felt a silly grin start on his face before he managed to change it into a more moderate smile. He'd spent a lot of time with the man while he was readjusting to feeling the Force, but it seemed that the more time Qui-Gon spent in Obi-Wan’s presence, the more time he wanted to spend there. 

Obi-Wan smiled at him before he continued on into the small galley. Qui-Gon heard his voice float back to him. "I'm making myself a drink. Would you like anything?" 

He declined, but admired Obi-Wan's manners. He'd obviously learned them somewhere other than Duvalpore. His accent suggested as much. 

Obi-Wan came out of the galley, drink in hand, and sat down near Qui-Gon, gazing out of one of the portholes. Qui-Gon admired the sight, but more than that, he felt the strong compunction to ask what Obi-Wan was thinking. Qui-Gon's curiosity about the man was strong, but he'd been holding himself in check while Obi-Wan recovered. It seemed that now might be a good time to satisfy that curiosity. 

"Your accent. It sounds Telosian. Were you born there?" 

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I was born on Lambros. I don't think I even know where Telos is." 

Qui-Gon was amazed that the Jedi had been able to find the boy all the way out on Lambros. It was on the outer rim of the Outer Rim. "Lambros is quite a distance from Coruscant." 

Obi-Wan's face clouded. "Too far away to ever reach." 

He was sure the confusion showed on his face, but Obi-Wan was still looking out the porthole, and Qui-Gon couldn't think of how to phrase what he wanted to know. 

"I haven't thought about Lambros in years." 

"Do you even remember it?" 

Obi-Wan nodded, hand moving to touch something in his tunic pocket. He drew out a holocube and lit it. A picture of a young, pretty woman displayed, and it was obvious from her features that she was related to Obi-Wan. "Yes. I was only five when we left, but I still can remember it. Remember her. Though I'm not sure how much of it's real, and how much of it is what I've imagined at this point." 

Qui-Gon was surprised at how old Obi-Wan had been when he went to the Temple. Five was older than they liked to take the children. But then, considering his strength in the Force, and how remote Lambros was, Qui-Gon could see them making an exception. Look at the one they'd made for Anakin. 

Almost as if sensing what Qui-Gon was thinking, Obi-Wan said, "I'm sorry about the boy. I know it's not enough, but...." 

"I know you did the best you could." 

Obi-Wan looked at him. "How do you know that? You don't know me. I could be the type that was willing to sacrifice small children to save himself." 

Qui-Gon just smiled. "From what Rade told me, I gather that you were running some kind of refugee smuggling operation, getting people off of Duvalpore." 

Obi-Wan nodded. "And you just naturally assumed that I did so for altruistic reasons." 

"Yes." 

His blunt answer was met by a laugh. "You are very naïve." 

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, just a good judge of character." 

Another laugh. "There's no one easier to fool than someone who believes wholeheartedly in their own perceptions." 

"You are very cynical." 

All trace of amusement died from Obi-Wan's eyes. "Life has a way of destroying illusions." 

Unable to help himself, Qui-Gon reached out and took one of Obi-Wan's hands in his own. It was nearly dwarfed by his, but it fit well. He rubbed small circles with his thumb, looking to comfort, and ignoring his own sense of excitement at the feel of Obi-Wan’s skin. "It wasn't your illusions that were destroyed; it was your faith, your trust. But you've still managed to retain your compassion. The others will come back, with time and patience. And friendship." 

Obi-Wan turned his head, blushing slightly. It amused Qui-Gon that this man, who'd been dressed like an exhibitionist when he met him, could be so shy about the offer of friendship. 

Of course, with the way Qui-Gon was feeling up his hand, maybe Obi-Wan thought that he was offering something else. Not that he wouldn't like more, but he wasn't going to exacerbate whatever damage Duvalpore had done by trying to get him into a physical relationship so soon. 

But before Qui-Gon could think of a way to make sure Obi-Wan understood him, he was made to understand Obi-Wan. The man had moved so fast that Qui-Gon hadn't even had time to prepare before those lovely lips were pressed over his own. But he wasn't a Jedi for nothing, and his reflexes came into play quickly, letting him return the kiss with the same fervor it was offered. 

It was a long time before they came up for air, and a longer time before Qui-Gon's previous objections over rushing Obi-Wan came up again, but by then Obi-Wan had caught his breath and was able to disabuse Qui-Gon of any doubts he had about Obi-Wan's very willing participation. 

:::::::::: 

"How did you wind up on Duvalpore?” 

Obi-Wan looked over at Qui-Gon from across the table. Qui-Gon had insisted on the barrier. It seemed that without it, every time they started to talk, they wound up kissing instead. And if they kissed, well, fucking wasn’t going to be far behind. 

Obi-Wan didn’t really want to talk, especially about Duvalpore. He was feeling too good. He’d readjusted to being able to sense the Force, and it was wonderful. Like being able to see again after years of being blind. And it wasn’t just the extended senses that felt good; his body practically hummed with newfound energy. 

Though perhaps that was the sex. At the best of their times together, Malan had made Obi-Wan feel really good. At the worst of their times, Qui-Gon made him feel great. He would never have guessed that being engaged with the person, feeling connected to them, would make sex even better. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t enjoyed himself before. 

Nothing in his life had ever prepared Obi-Wan for this. Nothing he’d seen of relationships, either from what he’d seen with his mother, to the scant few encounters he seen Xanatos have, to his own experience, had shown him what it was like to care this way for someone. 

A small cough brought him back to his surroundings. Qui-Gon was frowning at him, obviously disappointed that Obi-Wan wouldn’t talk to him. Well, he couldn’t let the man frown; he looked far too good when he was smiling. Among other things. 

“My master and I were trying to get to Coruscant. We’d been having a really bad string of luck. Actually, really bad doesn’t begin to cover it, as, before we wound up on Duvalpore, we’d spent years stranded on another planet. And before that… well, let’s just leave it as a truly horrendous string of bad luck.” 

Qui-Gon smiled at him, making Obi-Wan smile back. He really did look good that way. Seemingly unable to help himself, Qui-Gon reached out across the table and took his hand. Even after nearly two days of frequent sex, Obi-Wan found the touch electric. 

He could see form Qui-Gon’s dilated eyes that he wasn’t immune to the effect, either. But the man was a Jedi, and determined, so he continued. “What happened when you landed on Duvalpore?” 

Obi-Wan sighed, almost wishing for something to happen that would distract Qui-Gon away from his past. He didn’t mind the long, rambling conversations they’d had where they’d talked about random things; what type of music they liked, did they prefer sonic showers to water, whether Dwemt or Qarb was the superior soda, etc. The simple things that made up most of everyday life. But this focus on his past was irritating. There wasn’t much in it that would be much fun to talk about, especially Duvalpore, and there were so many things he’d rather be doing. But. “We met an old enemy. He prevented us from leaving, and then he….” 

Qui-Gon kissed his hand. “Had your master killed?” 

Even after all this time, the thought of that day could make Obi-Wan’s heart ache. He pulled his hand away from Qui-Gon, wrapping both arms around himself. He felt so cold. 

Then heat surrounded him, and Qui-Gon’s arms rested over his. The kiss was as good as the first, and he finally had his wish, as Qui-Gon forgot all about talking. 

:::::::::: 

Qui-Gon put himself on the other side of the cabin from Obi-Wan. He knew better than to trust himself any closer. He was determined to ask the boy about his master, and he wasn’t going to allow himself to be distracted. 

He ignored Obi-Wan’s sly smile. He ignored the way he was draped over his seat, the way the material of his clothes seemed to hug every curve of his body. He ignored the bulge that he could see at the juncture of those well-muscled legs. He ignored the one that was at the juncture of his own legs. Because he wasn’t going to be distracted. 

Obi-Wan licked his lips, and shifted in his seat. But Qui-Gon was on to his tricks, and calmly asked, “How long were you and your master together?” 

Obi-Wan idly scratched at his chest, the movement pulling the material taut against hardened nipples. “Oh, for years. He was the one who got me off of Lambros.” 

Qui-Gon was confused for a moment. Obi-Wan had only been five when he left Lambros, far too young to be an apprentice. But then he realized that Obi-Wan meant that he’d known his master from that time, not that he’d been in training with him. He smiled, and thought about his next question. 

But it wouldn’t come to him as he watched Obi-Wan rub his growing erection through the material of his leggings. He tried to speak, but his mouth had gone dry, and his tongue didn’t seem to work properly anymore. Then all thought of questions fled, as Obi-Wan slowly pulled his cock out, running a hand along its length. 

Faster than he could think, which wasn’t saying much at the time, Qui-Gon was kneeling in front of him, on his knees in worship of that beautiful flesh. He sucked the length in as far as he could, swallowing around it, making Obi-Wan moan. Then he was running his tongue around it in arcane patterns as he bobbed his head in supplication, asking for everything Obi-Wan had. He wanted to make it last, but he couldn’t resist humming in pleasure, which resulted in Obi-Wan drawing up tight and releasing in his mouth. 

With almost frantic haste, he had Obi-Wan’s leggings off, his own around his knees, using a mixture of spit and semen to push his long fingers into that still writhing body. With just a couple of quick scissors as preparation, he slicked his cock as well as he could, and pulled Obi-Wan’s ass to the edge of the chair. He pushed in fast, only stopping when Obi-Wan cried out. But then the body beneath him opened, and he was in all the way. 

Obi-Wan’s cry changed to a moan, and his lax cock twitched with new arousal. Qui-Gon had just a moment to appreciate the resiliency of youth before he was lost, only aware of his cock thrusting into tight heat, the wonderful little sounds his partner was making, and his own looming orgasm. His breath coming in harsh pants, he was slamming his flesh into flesh, feeling an answering push, feeling Obi-Wan tighten around his cock, and then he was coming, his hips jerking as the spasm hit him. 

He caught his breath, still buried deep, while he watched Obi-Wan pump his cock in hard, quick strokes. The sight of Obi-Wan coming, the feel of him tensing around Qui-Gon’s spent cock was painful, wonderful. He withdrew, resting against the side of the chair, totally unaware that he’d become distracted. 

:::::::::: 

After days and days of sex, even the most devoted hedonist will eventually need a change. And, anyway, even Jedi have a limit to their stamina. 

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were both sitting in the galley, enjoying a light snack together. Qui-Gon sat close, finally able to relax around the other man, enjoy his company without feeling the siren call of sex. Or feeling it only distantly. For the moment. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a ship. I’d forgotten how bland ship’s stores tend to be.” 

Qui-Gon smiled at this volunteering of information on Obi-Wan’s part. He’d known the man didn’t want to talk about the past, that he found too much of it painful to discuss, but he still wanted to know. Needed to know. 

“Six years ago, right?” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. My master had looked Duvalpore up in the database, but it didn’t have a lot of information listed about it. As you yourself discovered.” He continued at Qui-Gon’s answering nod. “But he at least somewhat trusted our pilot, and we’d had problems with the pilots before, so he went with what he thought was the best solution. It wasn’t like he could have known that we wouldn’t be allowed to get another flight out.” 

“But he still felt responsible for making the wrong choice, didn’t he?” 

“Yes. But then Xa-“ 

He cut off as Dooku entered the galley. He nodded to both of them, then turned to Qui-Gon. “We are nearing Coruscant. I was wondering if I might speak to you.” A smirk graced his face as he said, “Alone.” 

Qui-Gon laughed, well aware of the fact that Dooku had been being very discreet. He’d handled a lot of the ship’s functions himself, allowing Qui-Gon more time to spend with Obi-Wan, for which Qui-Gon was very grateful. “Of course, my Master.” 

He noticed Obi-Wan’s look of surprise at his phrasing. Had he not realized that Dooku had been Qui-Gon’s master? Qui-Gon realized that he’d been so intent on getting Obi-Wan to talk, that he’d not been doing enough himself. They really did need to actually talk sometime. 

He followed Dooku into the cockpit, motioning for him to continue. 

Dooku looked very serious, intent. “Qui-Gon, I was wondering if I might ask a favor?” 

“Of course you may. I owe you far too much as it is, I’d love to be able to pay you a little back.” 

Dooku looked relieved. “I was hoping you’d say that. During our trip, I’ve had a lot of time to think.” 

Qui-Gon could feel a blush trying to form, knowing that Dooku had been alone so much because he’d not been able to control himself. But Dooku ignored the blush. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I know what would help me get over the loss of my apprentice. It’s not as if I want to forget Anakin, but the loss is like a gaping wound right now, and I feel the need for something to fill it.” 

Truly ashamed, now, knowing that he had left Dooku alone in the middle of his grief, giving him far too little of his time to talk out what he was feeling, to talk out the grief. “If I can give it, Master, it is yours to have.” He felt a brief moment of disconnection as he remembered saying much the same thing to Obi-Wan during their first meeting. 

“I think what I need is a new padawan. And I believe that Obi-Wan would be the best choice." 

Qui-Gon felt the blood drain from his face. Surely Dooku wouldn’t ask for this. There was no way the man didn’t realize what Obi-Wan meant to him. And hadn’t it been Dooku who had suggested that he take an older padawan in the first place? “Why him, master? There are others who are in need of a master. And you know….” 

Dooku nodded. “It is because I know that I am suggesting this. The Council isn’t going to accept Obi-Wan easily. You saw how much trouble we had with Anakin, and now someone, even a padawan, who had lived for so long away from the Temple, from his master, especially in a place like Duvalpore, isn’t likely to make them happy. You are prepared to fight for him, I know. But they’ll wonder at your motives after they realize that you have a relationship with the boy. Do you really want them to think of Obi-Wan as your whore, and a new apprenticeship as the coin you’re paying him in?” 

Qui-Gon sagged, realizing that Dooku had a point. This wasn’t going to be easy, and adding more complications to the issue wasn’t going to help anything. But he wanted Obi-Wan as his apprentice, as well as his lover. “If I’m insistent enough, they’ll have to give over in the end.” 

Dooku just raised an eyebrow. 

Qui-Gon sighed, knowing that he had already lost, but not yet able to let it go. “But I’m sure the Force is speaking to me this time. I was meant to be his master.” 

Dooku nodded. “Perhaps. But I don’t believe that the Council will take your perception of what the Force is saying as anything they should listen to. Think about it, Qui-Gon. This is the best way for everyone. I will have an apprentice, Obi-Wan a master. We have both lost someone, and will be able to share in that grief, overcome it. And you and he will see each other as often as we can arrange it. I will not stand in the way of your relationship, as long as it’s not interfering with his training, and I know you would never allow it to come to that.” He placed a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, staring intently at him, almost like he was trying to make his point through force of will. “It is for the best.” 

Qui-Gon felt his head nod, though everything in him said this was wrong. But he’d never been able to argue around Dooku, and perhaps the man was right. Maybe Qui-Gon had let his emotions cloud his judgment, and this was what the Force had truly been trying to tell him. 

Dooku squeezed his shoulder, and gave Qui-Gon one of his enigmatic smiles. “Besides, you know I am much better at getting the Council to agree with me than you are. After all, my master sits on it, so I always have an inside source to help me get what I want.” 

Qui-Gon felt a weird flutter in the Force at those words, but before he could consider it, an alarm sounded. 

Dooku looked at the board. “We’re approaching Coruscant. Why don’t you go and tell Obi-Wan, and the both of you can strap in. I’ll handle the landing.” 

Qui-Gon left the cockpit, secure in the knowledge that Dooku would not only handle the landing, but that he would handle what to say to the Council. Qui-Gon could only wish that he was as secure in the knowledge of what he himself was going to say to Obi-Wan.


	13. XIII. Convocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan hides in plain sight, and Xanatos comes out.

Obi-Wan stared out the porthole at the approaching planet. He could only catch glimpses of it at first, but as they neared, he could see more and more, until it filled his horizon. Coruscant. The planet had taken on the proportions of myth in his mind, someplace to be talked of, but never actually reached. But even from this far out, he could feel the life that teemed on the planet, the life of the planet itself, thrumming through the Force. 

He was excited, though he was amused by it. He felt like a child again, and was probably acting like it, with his face nearly pressed against the porthole, trying to get a better view. He'd never been as excited about planet fall as he was now. But, then, it wasn't every day that you arrived at a planet nearly fifteen years after setting off for it.

Nor was it every journey that charged such a high toll long before you reached your destination. He shook the thought off, not wanting anything to spoil this moment.

He felt Qui-Gon approaching, and turned and smiled at his lover. He wanted to share this feeling with him. Maybe he'd even tell him exactly what arriving on Coruscant meant to him. A way to share something of his past, but a part of that past that had achieved a happy ending.

Qui-Gon returned the smile, but it was strained. He motioned to the chairs. "We'll be landing soon. We should strap in, just in case."

Obi-Wan nodded, but he felt a jolt of apprehension. Qui-Gon seemed nervous, and Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about what was causing it.

He was trying to figure out how to broach the subject when Qui-Gon said, "When we land, we'll be going to see the Council. We'll put your situation before them, and ask them to reassign you as a padawan."

Reassign? Obi-Wan wondered how he could be reassigned before being assigned in the first place, but Qui-Gon continued before he could ask. "You needn't worry about them assigning you to just any master, however. I was going... that is, I wanted...."

The bad feeling was getting stronger, and it was obvious that Qui-Gon shared that feeling, too. But Obi-Wan was at a loss for what to say.

Qui-Gon seemed to gather himself up, squaring his shoulders, even as their descent pushed him back into his seat a little. "Master Dooku has just experienced a tragic loss, but he believes that he could handle that loss more readily with the presence of a new padawan. He thinks that you and he would make a good team, and is going to petition the Council to be made your master."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he had heard that right. Hoped he hadn't heard that right. "Master Dooku wants me as an apprentice?"

Qui-Gon nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on his own hands.

"I see." But Obi-Wan didn't. He couldn't seem to quite take it in, the thought skittering over his mind, but not really sinking in. He tried to stay in that state, to keep that disbelief wrapped around him like a shield, but eventually the sharp edges of his thoughts cut through that defense.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, having to struggle against the tightness in his chest. He'd been so sure that Qui-Gon was going to ask him to be his apprentice. So sure that what he'd shared with Qui-Gon was more than a good lay. He laughed softly at himself. And he'd called Qui-Gon naïve.

Well, it wasn't as if they'd ever talked of commitment. Wasn't as if Obi-Wan had ever let them talk much at all. He'd been so busy keeping Qui-Gon away from his conversational landmines, that he'd let this distance exist between them. How could he blame Qui-Gon for not knowing that Obi-Wan thought the relationship was more than sex, when they'd never talked of serious matters at all? He'd been trying to save himself some pain, only to cause himself far more in the end.

Not that there was any guarantee that if they'd talked the situation through that things would have worked out any differently. Perhaps Qui-Gon had simply taken Obi-Wan up on his rather aggressive offer of sex because he was stuck on a long flight, and there hadn't been anything else to do. He shook that thought off, knowing that whatever mistakes he'd made in judging the man's feelings, that he hadn't been that far off.

Obi-Wan realized that Qui-Gon was still talking, and that he hadn't heard a word of it, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. He was sure the man was probably trying to offer some consolation, but Obi-Wan didn't want it right now. Later, when he'd got himself under control. When he belonged to himself again. 

So he sat there, acting like he was paying attention, and remembering all the songs he used to make fun of. Remembering how he refused to perform them, those vapid maunderings that waxed not very poetically over the glories of love. He remembered how silly they'd seemed to his own untouched heart. 

Well, if the Jedi thing didn't work out, at least he'd have some new songs to add to his play list.

::::::::::

As he walked beside Obi-Wan down the halls of the Temple, Qui-Gon was amazed that the scant feet between them could seem so vast. Unbridgeable.

This morning had started so well. He had woken with Obi-Wan in his arms, an experience that he'd rarely gotten to share with a lover. It was a very pleasant sensation.

Then Obi-Wan had woke up, and they'd shared some more very pleasant sensations. Nothing hurried or frantic, more intimate than passionate. And that level of intimacy was something he'd never shared with a lover. He'd amused himself with the thought of being any kind of virgin at his age, and then further amused himself by not explaining to Obi-Wan why he was smiling.

They'd been so close then. But Dooku's request, and perhaps Qui-Gon himself had pushed them apart. He really didn't think he'd handled that last conversation with Obi-Wan well. He wasn't even too sure that Obi-Wan had heard a word he'd said after he'd explained about Dooku. 

He hoped he'd have a chance to explain things better later. But looking at Obi-Wan's remote, expressionless face, he was afraid he might have put a breach in a relationship that was too new to bear it. And perhaps too weak. After all, they hadn't talked about commitment. For all he knew, Obi-Wan had offered sex simply because he was newly free to do so, or maybe as a way to occupy himself during the long trip.

Qui-Gon sighed, knowing that that wasn't true. Obi-Wan might not want to continue the relationship now that they were back on Coruscant, now that he was about to start a new apprenticeship, but Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan felt something for him, even if it was only friendship. If that was all he could have with Obi-Wan, he would still take it, and learn to be happy without the connection that he had thought was between them.

As they approached the Council room, Qui-Gon steeled himself, knowing a confrontation was coming. But regardless of what the hidebound beings on the Council were likely to say, he knew that Obi-Wan should be allowed to resume his apprenticeship, even with the long gap in his training. Even with what he'd been forced to do after his master had died. Qui-Gon rarely had visions, but the Force had been all but screaming at him that Obi-Wan was going to be a great knight one day. And Qui-Gon would do what he had to in order to give him the chance to be so. Including giving up his own chance to be the one to train him. 

::::::::::

Obi-Wan stood to the side as Qui-Gon and Dooku recounted their failed mission, and what had happened to lead them to Duvalpore. What had transpired there. Obi-Wan wasn't really paying attention, finding that he was too tired to much care about anything. If at this point in time, the Council had simply dismissed him out of hand, and told him never to bother them again, he would have left without a fight. 

He knew why he was tired. And he understood that the feeling would pass eventually, though it would take far too long, and hurt far too much for him to take much comfort from that. But knowing something wasn't the same as living through it, and the living through it process just seemed to stretch on and on. He was contemplating giving into the temptation to just lie down on the floor, when he realized that someone had spoken to him. 

"Pardon me?"

One of the councilors, Master Windu he thought they'd called him, was glaring at him. "I asked you to tell me in your own words how you came to Duvalpore."

If Obi-Wan wasn't so tired, he probably would have been irritated by the man's tone of voice, but he couldn't be bothered. Oh, wait, he was still glaring. That meant that Obi-Wan hadn't answered the question. What was it again? How had he came to Duvalpore? "By ship, Master."

It was only after Qui-Gon choked back a laugh, and Windu all but burned him where he stood with an even more potent glare, that Obi-Wan realized that that wasn't what the man had meant. Oh, well. "My master and I were trying to get to Coruscant, and we'd been having... difficulties getting here. We only went to Duvalpore to find another ship, one that would take us here directly if we were lucky, or at least one that would take us into Republic space."

Qui-Gon had managed to control his urge to laugh, but Windu was still looking like he'd sucked on something sour. Obi-Wan just sighed and continued. "While we were there, we met someone who felt a great deal of enmity towards us for something that had happened when I was younger. Before we could leave the planet, he had my master killed." Obi-Wan stopped, sorrow further weighing him down. The temptation to curl up on the floor was getting stronger all the time.

Qui-Gon gave him a small pat on the shoulder, which seemed to be his customary token of comfort. He turned to Windu. "Mace, we explained this all to you already. You can see Obi-Wan's tired, why are you dragging this out?"

Mace stared at Obi-Wan, obviously assessing him, and looking like that assessment was coming up short. "Yes, I know what you and Master Dooku have said, but I still don't believe that what he was before can make up for what he became on Duvalpore."

The sentence didn't make a whole lot of sense to Obi-Wan, but the implied insult came through clearly. It managed to break through the haze that surrounded him. "I did what I had to, as best as I was able. My master told me that I might have to do things that I didn't want to, but that I was to hold on, to go only so far, no further. And I did. It was the last thing he asked of me, and I kept my promise. I don't care if it isn't good enough for you."

Mace's face flushed darker, but Dooku broke in before he could let loose. "An admirable job, in my opinion, considering the circumstances. After all, in a world that seemed to be devoted to self-interest, or at least a limited group-interest, this young man, at great risk to himself, was helping others to escape the very trap he was caught in. Many of us would do well to learn such compassion."

Though Dooku hadn't been looking directly at Mace when he said that, Obi-Wan still nearly laughed out loud. It seemed as if Dooku was very good at insulting people without actually doing so. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to have him for a master. Not that Obi-Wan was sure that he was going to have any master at this point. It was obvious that the Council didn't want him. 

Though Dooku was telling the Council now that he wished to take Obi-Wan as his apprentice. That pronouncement just sparked off more contention. The feeling of being tired beyond words had returned, and Obi-Wan barely listened as Windu, Dooku, and Qui-Gon argued about him, about his strength in the Force and his training. He spent the time wondering where he could sleep for tonight, not allowing his mind to stray to any thoughts of the future beyond that point. Maybe Qui-Gon... no, it was best not to look to Qui-Gon for more than he'd already offered. Easier all the way around.

The ongoing argument was interrupted by a sharp crack, as Yoda smacked his gimmer stick against the floor. "Enough. Masters Jinn and Dooku are right. Strong this one is. Tested he will be. Then shall his position with the Jedi be determined. And who his master will be." Yoda was looking at Dooku now, with what appeared to be suspicion, but Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure if he was reading those alien features correctly. 

Dooku just stared mildly back at him, nodding his head in acceptance of Yoda's suggestion, with Qui-Gon following his lead. Mace opened his mouth to argue, but at a look from Yoda, he subsided.

They all turned to look at Obi-Wan, who sighed, realizing that a bed, any bed, wasn't likely to be his anytime soon. They wanted a performance? Well, he'd give them one. After all, for all that they seemed to disapprove of how he'd spent his time on Duvalpore, he'd learned quite a few useful things there, and giving an audience what they wanted was something he'd learned very well indeed.

::::::::::

When they brought Obi-Wan back into the Council room, Qui-Gon was upset with how tired he looked. Hadn't the man gone through enough without the Council pushing him, too? 

Mace had performed the testing, and came back in looking more relaxed. He returned to his seat and reported. "He's at the level you would expect a senior padawan to be. His control is a little erratic, but that would be easy enough to correct, with time."

Dooku smiled. "Then that should settle things. You cannot have any objection to my taking him as a padawan now."

Mace frowned. "Actually, I still have reservations. Just because the boy is strong in the Force doesn't mean that he is suited to being a Jedi. He went through a traumatic experience, which was exacerbated by years of living alone in a fairly hostile environment. Who knows what emotional damage there is?"

Qui-Gon was about ready to start arguing again, but Yoda held up a hand, a considering look on his face. "Anger I do not feel from him. Distrust, though, he has. Lived long without the Force, he did. Learn to rely on it again, he must. This he might learn with the right master." Yoda was looking straight at Qui-Gon, obviously expecting him to speak. Obviously expecting him to rely on the Force, too.

And Qui-Gon wanted to. It appeared that Yoda would accept him as Obi-Wan's master, would prefer it, even. And if Yoda accepted it, the rest of the Council would come around eventually. He could have what he wanted, what he thought the Force wanted, just by speaking up.

But was it what Obi-Wan wanted? He'd seemed upset when Qui-Gon had said that Dooku wanted him as an apprentice, and Qui-Gon was fairly sure that Obi-Wan had been expecting him to ask. But now that Obi-Wan had accepted it, had pulled away from Qui-Gon, would he want to go back to the way things had been?

And then there was Dooku. The man had helped him through so many bad situations in his life. He owed him quite a lot, not the least of which was his life. Could he deny Dooku one of the few things he had ever asked of Qui-Gon? Could he leave his master alone in his grief?

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, feeling again that sense of attraction, of connection, of affection. So many of Qui-Gon's desires, his wants, wrapped up in one person. Resolved, he turned to Yoda. "I believe that Master Dooku will be the right master." 

Yoda's ears drooped, and his gimmer stick seemed to twitch with his disappointment. He looked at Dooku, the considering look once more on his face, but Dooku just stared calmly back. Qui-Gon thought them oddly matched, Yoda and Dooku, one tall and elegant, the other short and... green, but in a battle of wills, it came out just about even.

Dooku broke their staring contest by speaking. "You are not my master anymore. And I can choose my own apprentice."

For a moment, Yoda looked angry, but then he sighed. "True, true. An apprentice you are free to choose."

"And I choose Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Qui-Gon waited to hear the words that should follow that, needing to hear them to cut off the small seed of hope he still felt, but Mace spoke instead. "Perhaps giving another padawan to Master Dooku isn't the best idea. His track record isn't the best."

Qui-Gon was shocked. "Mace! That was beneath you."

Mace had the grace to look repentant. "I beg your pardon, especially you, Master Dooku. I should have been more careful of the way I spoke. But I am only trying to think of what's best for Kenobi. Maybe another master would be a better choice for him."

Mace was saying exactly what Qui-Gon wanted to hear, and the temptation was so strong, but Yoda spoke over it. "With Dooku he shall go, if Obi-Wan agrees."

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, who appeared to be almost asleep on his feet, oblivious to the conversation going on around and about him. Qui-Gon almost smiled, but understanding why Obi-Wan was so tired took the amusement out of the situation. He reached out to Obi-Wan, stopping his hand just short of touching him. "Obi-Wan?"

He turned and looked at Qui-Gon, a smile ghosting over his lips, before it disappeared again. "Yes? Have I missed something again?"

Mace snorted, but Yoda ignored him. "Accept Dooku as your master, do you?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Sure."

Mace snorted again, but it seemed to be enough for Yoda. "Then decided it is."

Under his breath, Mace muttered, "I only hope he does better with Kenobi than he did with Xanatos." 

Qui-Gon heard him, but he thought he was the only one, until Obi-Wan asked, "Do you mean Xanatos DuCrion?"

It was as if a blanket of silence had descended over the room, shrouding everyone. Qui-Gon finally found the breath to break it. "How do you know that name?"

Obi-Wan looked at him like it was a stupid question. "Because he was my master."

If the previous silence had been a blanket, the new silence was a boulder.

The tension in the air must have finally broken through to Obi-Wan. He looked around, obviously at a loss as to what was wrong. "I know I've mentioned him before."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Just not by name."

Obi-Wan looked blank for a moment. "I always called him Xanatos to his face, but I usually referred to him as Master to everyone else. That way I didn't have to remember what name he had on his ID."

Qui-Gon let that remark go by. It wasn't as if they wouldn't have expected Xanatos to go by an assumed name. But how had he come to taking an apprentice? And how come that apprentice wasn't as evil as Xanatos had been?

The others were asking pretty much the same questions. There was a faint air of fear among them, that they might have been about to take something rotten into their ranks. Qui-Gon didn't believe that for an instant, but he was still a little shocked himself. Not at Obi-Wan, but rather at the Force, for the twisted paths it took to bring an apprentice of Xanatos' back to Dooku.

Yoda looked sharply at Dooku, but Qui-Gon's former master just stared, looking a little green himself.

Seeing that no one else was going to take control of the situation, Qui-Gon decided that what they needed was a little bit more information. Aware that Obi-Wan was probably nearing the end of his patience with them and their questions, he pulled the story from him as quickly as possible. 

And Obi-Wan had answered readily enough, if a little distractedly. Qui-Gon was winding the questioning down now. "Did Xanatos tell you why he left the Jedi?"

"He said he felt disconnected from them. That the lessons he'd learned in the Temple weren't being put to use when he was out in the field. He thought maybe his bond with his master hadn't been strong enough, like our bond had been, and that that might have been why he'd felt disconnected from the Jedi. But he'd still wanted for me to have the choice that he'd had, to see if it was the right path for me, and he spent a large amount of effort and time trying to get me here. But everything just kept going wrong. Duvalpore wasn't the first planet I was stranded on." Obi-Wan trailed off, his face going distant with memory.

Qui-Gon went to touch his shoulder for comfort, and stopped, not sure if Obi-Wan would welcome his touch, even such an innocuous one, anymore. But the memory didn't look to be pleasant, and Qui-Gon knew how much Obi-Wan didn't like to think about the past, so he offered the comfort anyway, pleased when Obi-Wan smiled at him.

Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the others. Dooku had his expression back under control again, but Qui-Gon could tell he was still a little nervous. But then it wasn't every day that a man came face to face with his past. Especially a past that had left such scars.

Except that the Xanatos Obi-Wan talked about didn't sound like the violent monster that Dooku had last faced. Qui-Gon felt a little niggling doubt. Hadn't there been other situations where he'd wondered about his Master's motives? When he had wondered at the odd looks of amusement that flitted across Dooku's face at the strangest, the worst, of moments?

Qui-Gon shoved those thoughts down. This man had trained him. Had raised him, really. He wasn't a liar. Something must have happened to Xanatos in between the time he'd turned and fought Dooku, and when he met Obi-Wan. He wouldn't have been likely to tell a child that he'd attacked his own master, after all. 

But the child had been bonded to him, surely he would have known anyway? And why would Xanatos have tried to bring Obi-Wan back to the Jedi, when he must have known how the Jedi would react to having him back among them again?

Qui-Gon stomped the doubts down this time. Xanatos must have hidden it away. Or maybe he'd block it from even himself. Who knew, as the man was dead, and certainly couldn't answer for himself? All Qui-Gon knew was that Dooku wouldn't have lied.

The members of the Council had been conferring quietly among themselves, but now they turned back to the others. Yoda held up his hand. "Decided the Council has to allow Obi-Wan Kenobi to become apprenticed to Master Dooku. Review this decision we will in one year." With one final rap of his stick, the meeting broke up.

Obi-Wan looked about ready to fall over, and his face was tight and pale. Qui-Gon hated to make him wait any longer, but he needed to talk to his master. Well, maybe not needed, but strongly wanted to, and the impulse was too strong to deny. 

Smiling at Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon drew Dooku away with a touch, moving far enough away from Obi-Wan that he wouldn't overhear them. "Master, are you sure you want to train him still? Everyone would understand if you felt uncomfortable about it now. And you know I wouldn't mind training him myself." No, he definitely wouldn't mind.

But Dooku just gave him one of his enigmatic little smiles, the one that tugged at the place where Qui-Gon had buried his doubts, and said, "No, my friend, I will still train him. This is a chance to redeem two wrongs at one time."

And with that, Dooku gathered up an unresisting Obi-Wan, pulling him along after him. Qui-Gon could hear his voice trailing behind him as they moved off through the hall. "Come, let's get you settled. Later we can get you kitted out, because you never know when the Council will take it into their heads to send us off to die for some silly cause or other, and it's best to be ready."

Qui-Gon could only look after them, feeling the distance between him and Obi-Wan growing wider than his thoughts could compass, or his heart could easily bear.


	14. XIV. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things they are missing.
> 
> (Obi-Wan recognizes the song, but do you? ;) hint: it's Rush, so there)

Qui-Gon watched as Neya went through the kata. She really was very good, perfect padawan material; her focus strong, her presence in the Force bright and clear. From her records, she was also very talented at academics. Even though a fairly large amount of her time as a padawan had been spent in the field, she was either current or ahead in all of her mandatory classes. A pupil like Neya would be a joy to teach. 

And though the loss of her master had obviously affected her, she was dealing with it well, channeling the darker emotions away from her, back into the Force. She was invariably courteous and respectful, her serenity often a comfort to those around her. Whoever took over her training wouldn't have to worry about grief and anger leading this student down the wrong path. 

There was also the fact that Neya and her master had often dealt with the same type of missions that Qui-Gon usually did, so she certainly wouldn't be a hindrance to him in his work. With her record, Qui-Gon could only assume that she would in fact be a great help. In other words Neya was the perfect padawan for him. 

And yet she wasn't Obi-Wan. And he couldn't bring himself to ask. 

Greetings Obi-Wan, 

I hope things have been going well for you since the last time we talked. I have been very busy myself. I looked for you after I got back from my last mission, but you and Master Dooku were on Alderaan for the conference. I had to eat dinner by myself. 

Don't laugh, you know I like company when I eat. But I did keep myself occupied, even without you here. I don't know if you heard or not, but Master Damil was killed on his last mission. This left his padawan, Neya, without a master. And here am I, still without a padawan. So I studied her record, and I watched as she performed some katas. It was all very impressive, and a little intimidating (as I wasn't sure she actually needed me to teach her anything), but I decided to go ahead and ask her to be my student. 

But you know how my luck works. While I'd studied and watched, someone else actually asked, and so I remain apprentice-less (is that even a word?). That will teach me to debate too long. 

I have to go now, as duty calls, but I hope that next time I'm on Coruscant we can get together. Mind Master Dooku (and no more trying to save cavins from someone's stew-pot, no matter how cute they are... even if I did try to do the same thing when I was a padawan.) 

:::::::::: 

Obi-Wan tried to pull away, but the other man was both taller and had more bulk, and the wall was to Obi-Wan's back, so he would have had to put up a fight to get free. Something he wasn't willing to do. Yet. 

He looked at the other padawans that had gathered around them. Of course, none of them had offered to come to Obi-Wan's aid, but he'd already learned not to expect that. At least most of them wouldn't join in if it came down to a fight. But Obi-Wan was already in enough trouble with Dooku after the whole cavin incident, so he was hoping to avoid that situation. 

"What can I do for you today, Bruck?" 

Bruck leered at him. As this was his usual expression, Obi-Wan wasn't surprised. "Well, why don't you do for me what you do best, Obi-Wannafuck?" 

Obi-Wan lifted one eyebrow. "You seem to have difficulty pronouncing my name. Perhaps it's because it's more than one syllable. I know how you have problems with polysyllabic words, so I won't mind if you just call me Obi. Or just don't call me anything at all." 

The other man looked blankly at him for a moment, but then the leer returned. "You're using that mouth for all the wrong reasons. Why don't you put it to better use?" 

"So you want me to sing for you then. Odd, I wouldn't have thought you were the musical type." 

"Oh, I could make you sing." 

Obi-Wan just shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, but you'd need to have a bigger microphone before I'd feel like performing. You'll just have to make do with singing for yourself. With the amount of practice you've had at it, you should be quite good by now." 

Bruck was no longer leering, but the angry expression on his face didn't bode well. It occurred to Obi-Wan that perhaps baiting him wasn't the best way to avoid a fight. Oh, well, at least it would be a release for some of his frustration. 

But before anything could happen, voices were heard from down the hall. The group around Obi-Wan broke up quickly, no one eager to be questioned on what they'd been doing. 

As Bruck walked away, he called back, "See you later, Obi-Wannafuck." 

Obi-Wan just let him walk away, let them all walk away. Let the group whose voices they'd heard pass him, ignoring their speculative glances at him. He let it all go. He was far too used to it. The eyes that were always on him. Watching the zoo animal. Watching the freak. 

He knew this song by heart. Conform or be cast out. And he hadn't even tried, knowing he had no chance of succeeding. Duvalpore had taught him a lot of things about Guilds, and someone's position in them, and it didn't matter how much Qui-Gon said there were no Guilds here, Obi-Wan could recognize one when he saw it. A group that was only open to those who were selected, with a hierarchal system of power. A distinct sense of being separate from those outside the group. Far too often, Bruck being a case in point, a sense of being better than those outside the group. 

The Jedi were definitely a Guild, and just like on Duvalpore, he'd come into it too late to ever truly be in. Until he could change what had been, he would always be an outsider here. 

Except, maybe, with Qui-Gon. 

I'm sorry that we missed each other again. Master Dooku and I were only on Coruscant for couple of hours before we were sent out again, so I didn't even have time to eat dinner, forget having to eat it alone. But someday, Force willing, we will have to be on the same planet at the same time again. Maybe by the time I'm knighted. 

It was sad to hear about Master Damil. I've never actually had a chance to talk to Neya, but from what I've seen, I'm sure she would have been a good padawan for you. Better luck next time, or, at least, better speed. 

Last time we met, if my memory can stretch back that far, you were worried about my fitting in with the others. Well, you can set your mind at ease on that account. The other padawans go out of there way to talk to me, and I'm often in the middle of a large group of them. They, and the knights and masters too, seem to be very curious about me. My time on Duvalpore especially seems to fascinate them, though how they found out about it is beyond me. 

Things continue to go well with my training, regardless of the cavin incident (though I was right about that). Oh, sometimes I have to wonder at the difference between what I've learned of Jedi philosophy and how it's put into practical use in the field, but time and training should help with that, I guess. As Master Dooku trained you... and Xanatos, not that he ever talks about that... I guess I should stop questioning him and just accept what he tells me. Bad habits are hard to break, though. 

I have to go now; they're calling for us in the conference hall. 

:::::::::: 

It took everything Qui-Gon had not to hit the Teldarian minister. He knew the man was only being this demanding because of the problems his world was facing and the stress that put him under, but his voice was grating across every nerve that Qui-Gon had. Breathing in deep, he let it out again in small increments, using this technique to control his anger. He knew better than to try to release it to the Force. 

Once he felt he was sufficiently under control, Qui-Gon answered the minister, making sure he addressed all his concerns. Using a lifetime of training, he calmed the situation down, eventually settling things to everyone's satisfaction. Or as close to satisfaction as the disparate factions could get. 

Alone again in his room, he knelt, feeling a strong need to meditate. He held himself open to the experience, not allowing his concerns to intrude. He sank deeper and deeper, letting everything go, reconnecting to the Force at this most basic of levels. He needed this, needed to center himself again. 

But his calm faded as once again he felt the Force pushing at him, whispering to him. Just as it had every other time he'd tried to meditate for the last five months. The last five months since he'd met Obi-Wan. Since he let him go. 

He wished he could make this stop. It was over, he'd already chosen. So why then was the Force so insistent that he was supposed to be Obi-Wan's master? Why was it so insistent that he should still be Obi-Wan's lover? 

Why was it so insistent that there was something... off about his former master? 

When this first had happened, Qui-Gon had thought it was a reaction to what was between Obi-Wan and him. Or rather what was no longer between them. Everything had happened so fast. Their meeting, Anakin's death, the escape from Duvalpore, and then the sex all coming one right after the other. Emotions had been running high, caution hadn't been anywhere nearby, and they'd moved from ignorance to intimacy too quickly, caught up in the tide of events. Their arrival on Coruscant and everything that happened then had been a rude awakening from what had been a lovely dream. 

But regardless of that, regardless of the fact that he'd stepped aside for Dooku, Qui-Gon still felt drawn to Obi-Wan, still felt a connection to him. Still wanted to be his master, his lover. And so he'd thought it was that want that was fueling his problems with meditating. 

But then he and Obi-Wan had managed to achieve a sort of wary friendship. It wasn't what he really wanted, but it was certainly better than not having any sort of friendship at all. And things got better between them all that time, even if it was at a slow pace. It gave him hope for the future. 

And yet he still couldn't meditate, and the Force continued to tell him things he did and didn't want to hear. 

When weeks turned into months, and he was still having problems, he went to Yoda, sure that the old master would be able to help. And if basically telling him that he needed to meditate about his meditation problems was a help, then Yoda had provided it. Perhaps it was just Qui-Gon's bad mood that didn't see the advice as beneficial. 

As the problem continued, though, the lack of meditation started to affect Qui-Gon. His normal cool demeanor became a facade, and he had to keep a tight hold of his emotions. He also began to become anxious about Obi-Wan, waiting with little patience for their next meeting or communication. He listened to his transmissions repeatedly, searching them for any sign that Obi-Wan was feeling the same way he was. Searching them for any sign of whatever it was that the Force was trying to tell him. 

Searching them for any hint that Dooku wasn't what Qui-Gon had always thought him to be. 

Qui-Gon sighed, frustrated. He needed to meditate, he needed to release all this pent up emotion. He needed to know what he should do. Maybe he should talk to Yoda again. 

Or maybe he should talk to Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan, 

It's been far too long since I've seen you. I find myself missing you at the oddest moments. I'll be in a meeting, being bored out of my mind, but trying to pay attention all the same, and I'll remember that story you told me about Vizn and the dangers of nodding off during even the most innocuous of discussions. And I think how much more interesting the meeting would be if you were there with me. 

I know I shouldn't say that, that you're doing well with Master Dooku, but I'm not as in control of myself as I should be lately. I know, it's something I need to work on. Are you getting any... odd feelings from the Force lately? 

Never mind, it's probably just in my imagination. You have enough going on in your life without having my little dramas added to it. 

I am glad your training is going so well. I always thought that my master was one of the best in the order. But don't stop questioning. Just... don't. 

You say he won't talk about Xanatos. Whereas I can understand why it might be a sensitive subject, I do find myself wondering about it. Of course, I also find myself wondering how things might have turned out if I had taken him as my padawan. Did I tell you that? That I had been going to ask him, but Master Dooku had beaten me to it? I have a bad history of waiting too long. And of losing my choices of padawan to Dooku. 

Don't mind me, I'm just reeling from the negotiations I'm doing. There are 6 distinct factions at work here, and none of them want to agree with any of the others. But things will work out, Force willing. I wish the Council would see fit to send me some help, but I'm very much used to having to handle these things on my own. And ignore that last comment, I don't want my opinion of the Council influencing your own. 

I miss you, Obi-Wan. I... miss you. 

:::::::::: 

"What did you think you were doing?" 

Obi-Wan managed to keep the scowl off his face, barely, but he could still hear the anger in his voice, and knew that Dooku could as well. "I was trying to help. That is what Jedi do, isn't it? Though I have to wonder if that's the truth, because in the six months I've been one, I've seen far too little help being given, and far too much politics being played." 

Dooku just looked at him, as if trying to solve a puzzle. "While I'm not exactly fond of politicians myself, the Jedi still operate under the direction of the Senate. The Supreme Chancellor had his reasons for what he asked us to do. I know that you are not the 'big picture' type, but even you should realize that sometimes individuals have to be sacrificed for the greater good." 

Obi-Wan shook his head. "There are children there, Master. Children. And maybe I'm not a 'big picture' person, but I see absolutely no benefit that can accrue from letting those children die. You're friendly with Palpatine, you see him every time we're on Coruscant. You could ask him to intercede." 

Again Dooku gave him a considering look. "Perhaps it's time to talk to you about my view of the Senate." 

Obi-Wan didn't know what that had to do with anything, but he knew better than to say so. Dooku often confused him, and he missed the bond he'd had with his master... with Xanatos, that had let him understand the other man's feelings, even when the thoughts were beyond him. Obi-Wan wondered if this was what had driven Xanatos away from the Jedi. 

Dooku had seemed to withdraw into himself for a while, but then he shook his head. "No, not time. Soon, though, Obi-Wan, soon. But in the meantime, you should know that I cannot use whatever influence I have with the Supreme Chancellor for such a trivial matter. You say there are children in that region, children who'll die when the mining starts. But those children, and their parents, can simply relocate. There's no need for them to die, and there is much need for the ores the mining will produce." 

"But that area is their sacred land; they won't relocate. And the Melost use chemical mining, so they're going to ruin the land, not just mine it. And it isn't the Melosts' land to begin with, as the Dakans were there first. Sith, the Dakans were on the planet first, and the Melost just took advantage of their lack of technology to move right in. Besides, the ores aren't necessary; it's simply a matter of finances." 

Dooku sighed. "And even though all of that is true, the Melost number in the billions, and the Dakans number in the hundreds. And, yes, the Dakan's low numbers are the fault of the Melost in many ways, but it's already done. It cannot be corrected now, so it's best to work with what is. Especially as many Republic worlds will benefit from what the Melost will produce." 

Obi-Wan sagged, knowing he was going to lose. Knowing the Dakans were going to lose and no amount of sabotage on his part was going to stop this from happening. He couldn't help one last comment, though. "It's not that the situation can't be corrected, it's that it's in the Republic's interests to see that it's not." 

Dooku sighed again. "Yes. And, again, we work for the Senate, who work for the Republic." 

"I thought we worked for the Force." 

"That's Qui-Gon talking. Surely you're not going to allow yourself to be influenced by his idealism. I would have thought Duvalpore would have kept that from happening." 

Obi-Wan laughed, though it wasn't a happy one. "No, I'm not particularly idealistic. But I'd been led to believe the Jedi were. Qui-Gon certainly is, and he's a great Jedi." 

"Really, Padawan, you need to let go of this childish infatuation. I believe it might be interfering with your studies. As to what happened today, I realize that you were in the habit of disobeying your master on Duvalpore, but, though I commend you for your actions there, when I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done." 

"Even when I know it's wrong." It wasn't a question. 

Dooku shook his head. "I would not have thought you so naive. Perhaps I should have cut off your contact with Master Jinn at the beginning. But too late for that now. I'll simply have to step up your training. You'll come to see things the proper way soon enough. But until then, you will obey me." 

"Yes, Master." 

Qui-Gon, 

I wish we could meet again. I miss being able to actually talk to you, rather than just talking at you. I can only hope that I'll see you soon. Especially as Master Dooku is questioning my being in contact with you. He says he thinks it's hurting my training, and I don't know, maybe he's right, but I wouldn't be able to give this up with good grace, I'm afraid. Does that make me a bad Jedi? Probably. So I can only hope he doesn't make it an order. 

You needn't worry about my not questioning things. Apparently, according to Master Dooku, you should worry about my questioning things too much. I know you said that I would be a great Jedi one day, but I'm coming to doubt this. And yes, I know I said that things were going well, but... I don't know, perhaps I'm just not cut out for this. Don't answer that. I'm just in a bad mood. But sometimes I just don't understand... Never mind, I'll handle it. 

I can see why you might wonder how things would have gone if you'd taken Xanatos as an apprentice, but I can't help but be grateful you didn't. I might never have met him otherwise, and regardless of anything that's happened since that day, I cannot regret having known him. 

I've been thinking about how things went between us when we first arrived on Coruscant. Maybe... well, I hope I see you soon. I have to go now. I miss you.


	15. XV. Profession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dooku has some things to say.

"Sulking is unbecoming behavior for a Jedi padawan."

Obi-Wan scowled. He hadn't been sulking. He'd been... contemplating things while wearing a frown on his face. It wasn't the same thing at all. But he bowed to Dooku all the same. "Of course, Master. How would you like me to behave? Your wish, after all, is my command."

Dooku sighed. "No, by all means, go on as you are. That's sure to convince me that you're handling your training well enough that you should be allowed to see Qui-Gon when we're on Coruscant."

That gave Obi-Wan pause. Passive-aggressive had nothing on his master. He bowed again, trying for more sincerity this time. "No, Master, I'm sorry. I'll amend my behavior."

Dooku bowed in return. "See that you do." Then he moved to return to the cockpit. He paused though, turning back to Obi-Wan with a considering look. 

"Is there something else, Master?"

But Dooku just stared, as if taking his measure. He sighed again, then came to stand before him, taking Obi-Wan's shoulders in his hands. "If you are so determined to continue this relationship with Qui-Gon, I feel there are some things you should know."

Obi-Wan didn't like the sound of this, but he knew better than to say so. He nodded, waiting for Dooku to continue.

"I admire Qui-Gon a great deal. I have since I first met him. He was a wonderful student then, and is a wonderful Jedi now. Even though we don't always agree on how to handle things, our basic goals, our vision of what a Jedi should be, are much the same."

Obi-Wan nodded again, not sure he believed that, but it certainly wasn't something to argue about.

"But even with all of that, I lived with the man much too long not to be aware that he has certain... quirks." He gave Obi-Wan's shoulders a slight squeeze before allowing his hands to drop. He began to pace the small room, appearing agitated, the tread of his boots audible even over the hum of the ship's engines. "This is difficult to say, but I don't feel comfortable with not giving you any warning."

Warning? Dooku was warning him about Qui-Gon? Only long training kept him from laughing out loud. "Warning, Master?"

"Yes. I suppose Qui-Gon has told you that he was going to take Xanatos as a padawan, but that I took him instead." At Obi-Wan's nod, Dooku continued. "Did he also tell you that he was going to take Anakin as well?"

"Yes, Master, he had mentioned it." It had made Obi-Wan wonder. And made him a little suspicious, but Obi-Wan had never seen any gain in it for Dooku, so he'd let it go as coincidence. 

"It wasn't coincidence that I kept taking apprentices that Qui-Gon was considering."

Obi-Wan started. Sometimes he could almost believe that Dooku could read his mind. "Then why, Master?"

Dooku looked sad as he said, "Because I was afraid. Telling words for a Jedi, no? But I was, because I could never be sure what Qui-Gon would do. He has a... fondness for young men. Young, pretty men especially. I don't know if you remember, but Xanatos was quite striking. Very beautiful, as are you."

Feeling a blush starting, Obi-Wan bowed his head. He knew he should be refuting what Dooku was saying, he didn't believe it, after all, but he was flustered and couldn't seem to find his tongue. 

"Anakin had his charms as well. I had seen Qui-Gon looking at you all, and had known what he was thinking. I'm far too familiar with how he behaves when faced with such temptation."

Obi-Wan finally found his tongue. "I don't believe you. Qui-Gon isn't like that. And if what you said was true, why didn't you warn me on the ship, when we left Duvalpore?"

Dooku was shaking his head. "I know you don't want to believe it, but it is true. And I didn't warn you on the ship, because I hadn't expected him to move so fast. After all, the two of you barely knew each other, and you hadn't been feeling well. I thought I had time. But you had hardly been up for a day before the two of you were... intimate. It caught me by surprise."

Obi-Wan felt the blush return, but he didn't let it deter him. "That was my choice, not his. I was the aggressor."

"Yes, I'm sure he let you think so."

"No. I don't just think so, I know it. I wanted him, and I was free to act on it. So I did. That had nothing to do with Qui-Gon. Well, something to do with him, but not in the way you're implying."

Dooku was looking at him again, but he nodded. "Perhaps that's true. But it doesn't change the fact that Qui-Gon should have known better. Regardless of what you might have felt, he knew that you'd been unwell. He knew that you were facing a great deal of change all at one time. And he knew that, though it's not against a rule for a master and padawan to be involved sexually, it is still somewhat frowned upon. He knew all of that, and yet he still went ahead and fucked you."

The coarseness of the language coming from his ever-elegant master shocked Obi-Wan. As did the thought that maybe there had been something wrong in what they did. It had been a confusing time; his entire world had been changed. But it had felt good. Obi-Wan had felt good. There wasn't anything wrong in that, surely.

His confusion cleared though as a thought occurred to him. "Why did you ask for me as a padawan then, if the damage had already been done. Since Qui-Gon had already, as you so elegantly put it, fucked me?"

Dooku gave him a sad smile. "I felt you deserved a chance to be a Jedi, and I didn't think that continuing a sexual relationship that seemed to occupy you to the exclusion of anything else was in your best interest if you were to achieve that goal."

Before Obi-Wan could think of what to say, the ship's alarm went off. They were nearing Coruscant. Dooku squeezed his shoulder again before heading off to the cockpit. 

Qui-Gon must have picked that gesture up from Dooku during his time as a padawan. Qui-Gon and Dooku would have been together for many years, both of them picking up habits from the other, becoming familiar with the other's gestures. Familiar with... what had Dooku called it? Quirks. They would have been familiar with the other's quirks.

Not that Obi-Wan believed Dooku, because he didn't. He obviously didn't want Obi-Wan involved with Qui-Gon, and this was just his way of achieving that goal. Nothing more.

As Obi-Wan stared out the view port at the approaching planet, he couldn't help remembering the first time he'd seen this. He'd been so excited then, happy to have finally made it to Coruscant. Happy with his new life. His new friend.

He was excited now, too. It had been almost eight months since he'd last seen Qui-Gon, and though they'd kept in touch, it wasn't the same. Obi-Wan had missed him. He'd found himself often dreaming about Qui-Gon, and not just about the sex, though that had happened often enough to be embarrassing. It would be good to see him again. To talk to him face to face. 

And if the talking should lead to anything more, well they were both adults. There was no reason why they shouldn't have sex. Obi-Wan felt his cock twitch at the thought and smiled. It seemed there was at least one vote in favor of it, anyway. And it wasn't as if the rest of him was exactly opposed to the idea. He would just ignore what Dooku had said. Because he didn't believe Dooku.

If only he was as sure that he believed himself.


	16. XVI. Crux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has their crosses to bear, and things are coming to a head.

Qui-Gon was late. He wondered what god he had pissed of that had cursed him with the fate of always being early for things he didn't want to go to, like Council meetings, and late for the things he truly wanted, like meeting Obi-Wan for dinner in the commissary. But then he abandoned useless thoughts in favor of speed, abandoning dignity right along with them, as he took to running down the halls of the Temple, using the Force to aid his speed whenever the halls were clear.

He was supposed to have met Obi-Wan almost fifteen minutes ago, but his talk with Dooku had gone on longer than he'd expected, and no amount of polite, or impolite, hinting had sped it up. It hadn't been a pleasant conversation, and Qui-Gon had had to hold tightly to his temper, but he'd had a lot of practice with that over the previous months. Being told that he was a bad influence on Obi-Wan was hard, but he told himself, repeatedly, that Dooku had the right to question any relationship his padawan had, and it seemed to help. A little. Until it caused him to be late and to be rude, one right after the other.

He was almost there, and thinking about slowing down, but instead he found himself coming to a sudden stop when he saw Obi-Wan in the garden outside the commissary. It wasn't so much the sight of Obi-Wan, nice as it was, that had shocked him out of movement, as it was what he was doing. Or, really, who he was doing it with.

Obi-Wan stood with his back against a wall, leaning his weight against his shoulders. The wall was white, with a green vine hanging in a bright tendril beside him, highlighting the red tints in his hair, the blue in his eye, the gold of his skin. It made a sharp contrast to the long white hair, to the dusky complexion of the young man who faced him, a hand resting alongside Obi-Wan's head, his weight leaning into it. The whole scene was striking. Charged. Intimate.

Qui-Gon could feel the weight of it pushing at his chest. He knew he had no right to question who Obi-Wan spent time with, or how he spent that time, but he couldn't help the pang of jealousy. Couldn't release it to the Force anymore than he seemed to be able to release the feelings he had for Obi-Wan. 

What made it worse was who the other man was. Even from this distance Qui-Gon could tell that it was Bruck Chun, his coloring distinctive even among the diversity of species and ethnicities that made up the Jedi. If Qui-Gon could have respected the man that Obi-Wan chose, he might have been able to handle the pain of loss with better grace. But Bruck, to Qui-Gon's not quite as charitable as it usually was mind, was a waste of resources. A padawan that should never have been chosen in the first place, not alone by someone on the Council. The boy had already had problems with arrogance before he was chosen, but being around Mace all these years hadn't helped in the least, nor done much for furthering his sense of compassion for others. And yet this was who Obi-Wan chose to be with.

It was right in the middle of feeling his heart break that Qui-Gon started to think again. Details he'd missed started to impinge upon his self-pity, and reason reared back up, snarling about having been ignored. Qui-Gon now saw the group of padawans who stood a short distance away, staring intently at Bruck and Obi-Wan. It occurred to him that even the most devoted exhibitionist might find such close scrutiny a little disconcerting.

He also noticed the tension in Obi-Wan's body, the harsh coldness of his face. He knew very well what Obi-Wan looked like when he was happy, aroused, and it was nothing like that.

Something was obviously wrong, and he was tempted to enter the tableau, to break it up, but he knew that Obi-Wan could handle himself, and might not appreciate Qui-Gon's interference. Plus, if he were being completely honest, Qui-Gon was really curious about what was going on, and thought he might stand a better chance of finding out by eavesdropping than he would through direct confrontation. 

Moving quietly, he managed to move through the foliage in the garden, using it to avoid anyone's notice while getting close enough to hear Bruck saying, "You really are a fuck-up, aren't you, Obi-Wan? Can't even go on a simple mission without turning it into a diplomatic nightmare."

Obi-Wan didn't reply, but turned his gaze onto the other padawans standing nearby. They wouldn't look at him, seeming to find their own feet of immense interest. Obi-Wan addressed them anyway, his voice curious. "Do you agree with him, then? Is what I did on Malost against what you believe, also?"

None of them looked at him, most of them turning their eyes to Bruck, as if trying to read what they should do from his face. No one answered.

Obi-Wan nodded, his face showing just a touch of sadness before the ice returned, blanking the expression. "I see. Well, no point in continuing this scintillating conversation, then, and I am late, so if you'll excuse me..." He started to move off, but Bruck put a hand on his chest, holding him back.

Qui-Gon couldn't see Bruck's face from this angle, but he was pretty sure there was a leer on it, because Bruck seemed to leer at the slightest provocation, and Obi-Wan was certainly more than that.

Obi-Wan held still for a moment, but when Bruck's hand started to wander across his chest, he grabbed it, stilling its movement, the set of his mouth displaying his anger, even as his face remained impassive. "You seem to be inordinately fascinated by my life on Duvalpore, but there seems to be one detail of it that you've overlooked. During my time there, I spent a lot of time with the head of the Assassins' Guild. I learned a lot from him." He looked pointedly at Bruck's hand. "A lot."

Showing far more intelligence than he usually did, Bruck moved his hand away. Then the bravado returned, and he laughed. "I just bet you learned a lot from him, Obi-Wannafuck. I just bet you did."

Qui-Gon had seen enough. Obi-Wan was holding his own, certainly, but much more provocation and he'd probably feel compelled to violence, as Force knew Qui-Gon already did, so it was best to break this up before things got out of hand. A fight at the Temple wouldn't help the tension between Obi-Wan and his master any, and it might get in the way of dinner.

With a much heavier tread than usual, he moved towards the others, heads turning towards him at his approach. The group that had been watching all but fled, but Bruck took the time to give Obi-Wan one more leer before he took off after the others.

Qui-Gon considered following him, maybe even taking him to Mace to explain what he'd seen, but he knew Mace would just ignore anything Qui-Gon had to say to him. He always had before. Better to let it go. For now, anyway.

He turned towards Obi-Wan, who was still leaning against the wall, watching him with a wary smile, but it disappeared at Qui-Gon's frown. "Have they been giving you problems all along?"

Obi-Wan started to say something, but then paused, obviously thinking about it. After a moment, he said, "Yes. But it's nothing I can't handle."

Qui-Gon sighed. He should have guessed that the other padawans might treat Obi-Wan as an outsider. They were trained to compassion, to understanding, but in recent years those concepts seemed to be something too many Jedi gave only lip-service to, becoming more insular and arrogant all the time.

He reached out to place a comforting hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, but Obi-Wan pulled away from the touch. Oh, well, maybe he was rushing things a bit, especially considering that Bruck had just been all but groping him.

Obi-Wan tried to smile at him again, but it wavered as he looked down the hall that Bruck and the others had gone down. "I don't understand these people."

Trying to overcome his own doubts and anger, Qui-Gon said, "These people? Are they really so different from you, then?"

"As night and day, apparently. You heard what he said, didn't you?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, but what one person said isn't what everyone would say. You know better than to judge a group by the behavior of an individual."

Obi-Wan grinned, but there was little humor in it. "Do I? Because that's the Jedi way? Maybe that's just further proof that I shouldn't be a Jedi."

Not liking that train of thought, Qui-Gon frowned. "You should, more so than many others. I would take you over Bruck any day."

Obi-Wan really did smile at that, but then it faded. He looked intently at Qui-Gon for a moment, studying him. Then, almost idly, he asked, "Why?"

Qui-Gon wondered what he was thinking, but answered without questioning. "You care, and he doesn't. You're far more intelligent, inventive." He smiled, thinking on Dooku's complaints from earlier. "What you did on Malost shows that."

Obi-Wan nodded. "And that's all?"

Wanting to break the tension a little, Qui-Gon couldn't resist saying, "Well, and you're far better looking."

He'd expected a laugh, or maybe even a blush, but Obi-Wan paled, obviously upset with his answer.

"What? What's the matter?"

Obi-Wan was still studying him, but he shook his head, as if trying to dislodge his thoughts. "Nothing. It's nothing. It just reminded me of something Master Dooku.... Forget it."

Well, that was enlightening. In a totally non-enlightening way, of course. "Ok. Are you all right now?" Unable to stop himself, Qui-Gon reached out to Obi-Wan again. 

This time Obi-Wan took his hand, holding it. He'd regained his color, but still looked shaken. "I don't think I am all right. I don't think I belong here. I'm not like them. You say it's just Bruck, but it isn't. You must have seen the others that were here with him. And while they didn't join in, they didn't say anything against it, either."

"Obi-Wan, I know some of them are the same age as you are, some are even older, but you must realize that you're mature for your age than most of them are. Given time..."

"Given time they'll be knights. Just like the knights who stare at me now. Just like the masters who look at me as if they're waiting for me to do something awful. Like they're waiting for me to turn. I hear what they say about Xanatos. About me. I hear it because they don't go to a lot of effort to keep quiet when they talk, even when I'm nearby."

Qui-Gon had heard the talk, too, but hadn't realized that it was so bad. But then he was rarely on Coruscant, and not known for being tolerant of gossip when he was here, so it wasn't likely he'd heard everything that was going around. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan quirked a grin at him. "Why, have you been talking about me, too?"

Rubbing the hand in his, Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, but I'm still sorry you've had to hear all of that. That you had to go through it alone. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It wasn't your problem."

"I would have liked for it to have been."

Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon's hand to his chest, let it rest there. "Then I'm sorry I kept it from you."

Qui-Gon felt his heart beat faster at the contact. He was trying not to read too much into the situation, but his brain, and other parts of him, were insistent that this was a good sign. "Well, now we can deal with it together."

But Obi-Wan shook his head. "It won't be a problem."

And that sounded like a bad sign. "Why not?"

"I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Obi-Wan put his hand on Qui-Gon's lips, stopping his instinctive denial. "I don't belong, and it shows. It will always show. I don't have the polish the others expect, the same point of view. Bruck cared more that I'd caused trouble than he did about what happened. It was more important that I did something wrong to help the Dakans, than it was that the Malost put them in the position of needing help, and that the Republic, that the Senate and the Jedi abetted them."

Obi-Wan sagged, placing even more of his weight on the wall behind him. For the first time, Qui-Gon looked beyond the lovely features to see the pain and exhaustion showing in the shadows under the eyes, the lines in the forehead. He rubbed a finger along the deep line showing between the brows, offering what comfort he could.

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile, but it faded quickly. "The Dakans are all dead. I obeyed my master, as I was supposed to, and all those people died without anyone on their side. Oh, the Malost offered their sincerest regrets over the 'accidental' chemical spill that wound up poisoning and killing an entire race. They assured us that they had reprimanded those responsible, and that they feel terrible that such a tragedy occurred. Of course, that unfortunate accident never even slowed the mining down." He shook his head sadly. "Genocide, and the only consequence is that someone was reprimanded. And I have serious doubts about that being true. The extra training exercises Master Dooku made me do to make up for trying to stop the whole fiasco were probably a worse punishment than any of the Malost received."

Qui-Gon wished he could refute that, but his inherent honesty, and more than a touch of cynicism, kept him quiet. He offered what he could by touch, running a hand through Obi-Wan's hair, and down along the still-short padawan braid.

Obi-Wan gave the hand that he still held on his chest a squeeze, returning the favor. "My master thought I was wrong. Bruck and the others thought I was wrong. What if they're right? What if I'm too caught up in the little picture to see what's truly going on? Maybe I'm just a bad Jedi. Maybe I want to be."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. Regardless of what they said, you are a good Jedi. Don't let them drive you out. We need you." 

Qui-Gon had tried to hold back on influencing Obi-Wan's opinions on what the Jedi should or shouldn't do. After all, he wasn't his master, Dooku was. But he couldn't let this happen without trying to do something to stop it. "You're right, you know. Too much of this order seems to be following a path that I cannot agree with; politics playing more of a role than compassion. And it only seems to be getting worse as the years go by. But if we're to stop this trend, if we're to keep the Jedi in their role as guardians of the Republic, and not just the guardians of a few special interests, then we need people who are willing to make the harder choices if their conscience tells them to."

Obi-Wan thought for a while, before he slowly answered. "I never asked to be a Jedi. It was Xanatos' idea. And I kept it as a goal because otherwise I would have lay down and died." He gave a wry grin. "There are probably quite a few people who wished I had."

But Qui-Gon wouldn't be diverted from his point. "You will make a great Knight, a great Jedi. You have the skills, against all odds, considering how little time has been devoted to your training. And you have the heart."

"I don't."

"You do, otherwise you would never have helped us out when we first met. It was dangerous for you to do so, and yet you didn't hesitate."

Obi-Wan snorted outright at that. "I did hesitate."

Qui-Gon smiled. "OK, you hesitated, or at least you threw a couple of delays into my path, but that was only caution. When the time came, you acted, even at a potential cost to yourself. Sacrifice like that is at the heart of being a Jedi."

"Maybe I don't want to make that sort of sacrifice anymore." He stopped, his eyes going haunted. "For me or anyone else."

Qui-Gon's smile wouldn't hold, and he was afraid he was losing this argument. Even beyond his personal concern for Obi-Wan, he truly believed what he'd been saying. The Jedi were becoming far too complacent, far too political. They really did need more people like Obi-Wan. He had to think of something that would make Obi-Wan stay. Best to keep him talking for now, it would give Qui-Gon time to think. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But if you're not a Jedi, what are you going to do?"

Obi-Wan looked somewhat startled at the question, as if he had never considered it before. "I have absolutely no idea." 

He gave another small smile, humor once again making a stand against his melancholy. "I really don't. For years, all I thought about was getting away from Duvalpore. Escape was the dream, becoming a Jedi was even more of one. There didn't seem to be much point in thinking about what came after, as I never really thought it would happen. As a consequence, I've achieved my life's goal and have nothing to replace it." 

Qui-Gon nodded, glad to see the smile. "Maybe you should think about it before doing anything rash."

Obi-Wan's smile got larger. "Rash, huh? Like maybe that thing with the cavins?"

"Yes, exactly like that."

Obi-Wan pulled away from the wall, giving a quick kiss to Qui-Gon's hand before he let it go. "Ok, since it means so much to you. And since I don't have any better ideas." He gave Qui-Gon a wink before walking away, calling back over his shoulder, "Well, not about that, anyway. But I don't feel like talking anymore. Let's go have dinner."

Qui-Gon looked after him, appreciating the integrity, the strength, and the humor that were so much at the heart of the man. And that strut in his walk wasn't exactly hard to like, either. He'd not realized how bad things had been for Obi-Wan, but now that he did, he was sure he could make them better. And, with time, he was sure he could talk him out of any ill-conceived ideas about leaving the Order. But for now, dinner was waiting, and he was willing to offer a friendly ear if Obi-Wan did want to talk some more, and good company if he didn't.

And, considering some of the looks that Obi-Wan had been giving him, maybe he'd offer other friendly body parts after dinner was over.

::::::::::

In his hurry to catch up with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon didn't see the two people that had been standing in the same spot that he had eavesdropped on Bruck and Obi-Wan from. 

He didn't see Yoda sadly shake his head, and say, "Lose that one, you will."

He didn't see Dooku's knowing smirk, as he replied, "No, Master. Win that one, I will."


	17. XVII. Cynosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dooku has a brilliant plan, and Obi-Wan is exquisite.

The meeting with Senator Fulim had gone on much too long. It had taken a lot of Qui-Gon's control to keep from telling the woman to hurry up and actually say something rather than droning on and on as she usually did.

He'd finally made good his escape and was hurrying through the halls of the Senate offices, trying for both speed and stealth in an attempt to escape before anyone else managed to corral him. But he slowed when he saw his former master talking with the Supreme Chancellor. It always seemed odd to him how friendly they'd become. Qui-Gon could clearly remember how suspicious Dooku had seemed of Palpatine when they'd been discussing his relationship with Anakin.

Perhaps that was the link. Both of them had been very fond of Anakin, and grief could make strange bedfellows just as well as politics. 

Carefully looking around him to make sure that no one was lying in wait, Qui-Gon decided to speak to Dooku. He regretted how snappy he'd been when they'd last talked. And then Dooku and Obi-Wan had left the very next day, not allowing Qui-Gon any chance to apologize. Or to see Obi-Wan again after that night. And he hadn't heard from Obi-Wan since.

Not that that had anything to do with Qui-Gon's desire to talk to Dooku now. Not at all. He just really felt the need to apologize.

Well, it was a good excuse, at least.

Palpatine had left, Dooku looking after him with a frown on his face. He started when Qui-Gon called to him, giving another quick glance after Palpatine, but then his face cleared and he turned and greeted Qui-Gon politely, if distantly. "How are you, my friend?"

"I am well, Master. And you?"

"I, also."

Dooku didn't volunteer anything else, and Qui-Gon was at a loss of how to continue the conversation. The best he could come up with seemed to be, "That's good." So he said it, though he cringed inwardly at how inane it sounded.

"Yes it is." Dooku smirked, but seemed to take pity on him. "You'll have to do without hearing from your little playmate for a while, though, as he's on assignment on Sertil, and you know what communication is like from there."

Qui-Gon did know, having spent time there himself when he was an apprentice, and he felt sorry for Obi-Wan now. Boring, pointless research, horrible weather, few amenities, and hardly any company; Sertil was an assignment you received when your master felt you needed to be put in your place. "Thank you for telling me, Master. I had been a little worried."

Dooku stared at him for a moment, considering, but then he just smiled and said he had to be going.

Qui-Gon watched him as he left, feeling like he'd missed something. But then he often felt that way after talking to Dooku.

::::::::::

Obi-Wan waited patiently for his master to start talking, determined to do nothing else to provoke the man. The memory of Sertil was enough to dampen any desire to complain about being kept waiting for so long.

Dooku smiled at him, as if he'd heard that thought, but then he started talking. "Obi-Wan, I believe it's time you and I had a talk. I've made mention before about my views of the Senate, of the Jedi, and that these views vary somewhat from most of the Order. I believe you're ready to hear these views now. I believe you're ready."

Dooku sighed, then continued. "It saddens me to say these things, but they are necessary. You've seen the way the Jedi are; their subservience to the Senate, the attention paid to politics, to gain. What happened with the Dakans is a prime example.

The Jedi were strong once, but now they're weak, corrupt. And the Senate is far worse. As it stands, the Jedi are no longer the guardians of anything except for a few special interests. Even at their best, with people like Qui-Gon, they're little more than a stopgap to the problems that are besetting the galaxy. As a whole, though, the Jedi are hidebound. Stagnant. Unwilling to change.

My master has seen this. I have seen this. I believe you have seen this, though you might not realize it yet. But I want you to think about what I've said. We will talk again."

And Obi-Wan bowed, and patiently agreed to think upon what his master had said, determined to do nothing else to provoke him. And anyway, it was one of the few things that Dooku had ever said to him that he really agreed with. 

::::::::::

It had been several weeks, and yet Qui-Gon still hadn't heard from Obi-Wan. He was beginning to become nervous. They'd both enjoyed themselves that last night, of that he had no doubt, but maybe Obi-Wan was regretting things now. He had been upset about the situation with the Dakans, about Bruck. Maybe he thought that Qui-Gon had played upon that upset, taking advantage. And maybe he had.

Qui-Gon shook his head. No, that was just nerves talking. Obi-Wan had been fine the next morning, not in the least upset about waking in Qui-Gon's arms. Not in the least upset about what they'd done then, until Dooku had commed him, telling him it was time to go. This silence must be something else.

He had his answer the next day when he received a message from Dooku. 

"Qui-Gon, I must ask you not to contact Obi-Wan anymore. I have given him every chance, but he has become too distracted by your relationship, and it is affecting his training. Once he has learned some discipline, then I may rethink this decision, but in the meantime, I do not want the two of you seeing each other any more."

After the message ended, Qui-Gon continued to stare at the blank screen. But to his inner eye, the screen wasn't blank. It showed him visions of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan in pain. Obi-Wan calling to him. Dooku laughing.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but Qui-Gon felt drained when it was over. The blank screen was finally blank, and his mind was his own again. He was so tired, though. Tired of trying to ignore what the Force had been telling him. Tired of ignoring his own suspicions. 

Yes, Dooku was Obi-Wan's master, and yes, as long as Dooku was Obi-Wan's master, then this was his decision to make. As long as Dooku was Obi-Wan's master.

He needed to talk to Yoda.

::::::::::

"You've thought about what I said?"

Obi-Wan bowed again. "Yes, Master."

"And you agree?"

"Yes, Master."

Dooku smiled. "Good, good. So now we can both see the problem. It is now time to talk about the solution. Now the Senate will never agree to the disbanding of the Jedi, not as long as they provide a useful service." The smile turned wry. "For them, that is."

Hesitantly, Obi-Wan nodded. Best to let Dooku say what he was going to without arguing. Didn't mean he had to totally agree with him, just that he had to keep that fact to himself.

"So they must be stopped from within. My...." Dooku pursed his lips, thinking, then continued. "My master has seen this, and he has set things in motion. But it will be up to us to make sure his plans come to fruition. Together, we will be able to rid the galaxy of this very serious threat. Together we will be able to put something much better, much stronger in its place. Then we will have the power to ensure that things go the correct way. Our way."

Obi-Wan nodded. No arguing. Keeping things to himself. "Are you insane?"

Dooku looked surprised. "Of course not. The Jedi are no longer helping with the problems of the galaxy, they are one of the problems of the galaxy. And they wield far too much power to be allowed to continue unchecked. We need a clean slate, so that we can write a new Order into existence. Our new Order."

Amazed at the amount of self-deception this man practiced, Obi-Wan said, "Yes, there are problems with the Order. I'm the last person you need to tell that piece of information to. But you can't just decide that your opinion about them is the only valid one, and that if they don't conform to your viewpoint, then they should be disbanded. You think the Jedi have too much power, but your way of handling the situation will only transfer that same 'too much power' to yourself. Surely you can see that this is wrong?"

Shaking his head, Dooku smiled again. "Such naïveté. They need our vision to save them. And we will not hold onto the power once the new Order is in place. Just long enough to get it there. Just long enough to root out the corruption and those who would fight us."

Things that had confused him before started to make sense to Obi-Wan now. "This is why Xanatos left, isn't it? Did you give the same speech to him? I've always wondered, because everyone talks about him as if he had turned, but I knew he hadn't. Everyone thinks that Xanatos was a traitor to the Jedi, but it's you instead."

Dooku looked put out. "Oh no, my friend. Not a traitor. A savior." He considered his hands for a moment, before looking at Obi-Wan through hooded eyes. "And Qui-Gon agrees with me. He will be joining us."

:::::::::

Qui-Gon knelt beside Yoda in the meditation garden, though he knew better than to try to meditate. The visions were getting stronger now, the voice of the Force nearly screaming at him that something was wrong.

He was struggling to maintain a calm façade, but he was sure that Yoda saw right through it. He was debating on how to diplomatically say that he thought that something was wrong with his former master when he decided that diplomacy was really overrated. "I am beginning to have doubts about Master Dooku; about whether he is the master for Obi-Wan, and about other things."

Yoda nodded, but said, "Yet Obi-Wan's master he already is."

"I know. But I feel... Sith, the Force feels that this is wrong. The problem I told you about, the problem with meditating, is getting stronger, and now I've started to have visions that something is wrong."

Pursing his lips, Yoda nodded again. "Doubt that you feel this, I do not. But doubt that the Force is the one talking, I do. We cannot change Obi-Wan's master because thinking with the wrong head, you are."

Qui-Gon blushed, always surprised when he heard Yoda talk in such an earthy fashion, though, considering Yoda's age, he had probably seen and maybe even done it all. "I understand your doubt, Master Yoda, but it is the Force talking. Quite loudly. At least call them back to the Temple, just in case."

Yoda stared at him for a moment, his head cocked, considering. "Long have I wondered...." He stopped and shook his head. "Time for that it is not. Time for Obi-Wan's review it is. For this we will call them back."

Qui-Gon was relieved. And anxious. And hoping he hadn't left things too late.

::::::::::

Obi-Wan gave a harsh laugh. "Qui-Gon would never join you."

Dooku quirked his lips. "Don't be so sure. After all, he was once my apprentice, as you are. I know him very well."

"Well, excuse me if I don't think much of your perspicacity, since you seem to think that I'd agree with you on this."

Dooku's eyes glittered darkly. "You don't, do you?" He shook his head. "Yoda said I would lose you. But then he was talking about as a Jedi. He didn't think you would make it. And I guess he was right."

That startled Obi-Wan, though it shouldn't have. But he hadn't been thinking past this moment, past Dooku's mad plan. Now he could see the way things were going, and realized, regardless of who was right, Obi-Wan would definitely be the one to lose.

His thoughts were confirmed when Dooku said, "The others are all sure you'll wash out. Or turn. Only Qui-Gon has any faith in you, and that's driven by lust, not thought. When I tell the Council that your performance as an apprentice is lacking, well...."

And Obi-Wan knew he was right. Knew that even if he tried to warn the Council about what Dooku was planning, what he had said, that it wasn't Obi-Wan who would be believed. 

In some ways, it was like having a weight lifted off of him. If he couldn't make it as a Jedi through no fault of his own, then he didn't have to feel like he was disappointing Xanatos. Like he was disappointing Qui-Gon. He could just leave the whole lot of them behind, and try to find someplace where he truly fit in.

But Qui-Gon... well, he'd miss him, but maybe it would be easier for them both this way.

::::::::::

Qui-Gon went back to his quarters after taking his leave of Yoda, but he couldn't settle. He felt like his nerves were thrumming, and something was coming, but he couldn't figure out from which direction. This is why he hated visions. Too unsettled, too many unknowns. He preferred to live his life in the moment, but unfortunately, the moment he was living in now seemed not to have happened yet.

He made himself some tea, hoping the mundane task would help to calm him. But it was taking forever, as he kept getting sidetracked by thoughts of Obi-Wan. Beyond the visions, beyond his anxiety, there was the fact that Qui-Gon missed him. Missed being around him. Missed that they'd never had the chance to do simple things like making tea together.

When this was over, he promised himself that they would have time for all of the little things they'd missed by coming together the way they had. He promised.

::::::::::

When there was no point in arguing, then it was time to leave. So Obi-Wan did.

Or he tried to, but he felt Dooku wrap the Force around him, holding him still. He tried to turn and look at him, but all he could move was his head, and he couldn't see the other man. Then Dooku was standing in front of him, the last vestiges of his usual façade stripped away, the madness plain in his eyes. And the lust.

"Not so fast, my young friend. Just because you aren't my apprentice anymore doesn't mean you can't still be of service to me." He placed a heavy emphasis on the word service.

Obi-Wan pulled against the Force holding him, but his control was always more erratic when he became agitated, and he was certainly that. "Why do this? You don't really care about me at all."

Dooku smiled, and there was nothing pleasant about it. "Of course I do. I care that I put time and effort into your training and you spurned it. I care that I placed hope in you and you crushed it." He leaned in then, and licked a trail down Obi-Wan's face, moving back quickly to avoid the snapping teeth. He laughed. "And Qui-Gon always did have such exquisite taste."

Obi-Wan concentrated, trying to calm himself, trying to direct the Force as he should be able to. Xanatos had always told him that he'd regret not working harder to correct this problem. But his concentration was shot when Dooku's hand slid down his leggings, over his cock. 

He put everything he had into struggling then, and was able to move with some force, but not enough Force. The only thing he really achieved was that his belt broke with the strain, sending all of his things cascading across the floor. Including his lightsaber.

He reached out to it with his mind, wanting nothing more than to feel its comforting weight in his hand right now, but Dooku drew it to himself almost casually, most of his attention focused on the holocube that lay on the floor. The holocube had been activated when it hit, and the picture of Obi-Wan and his mother, both of them smiling happily, was being projected right in front of them.

Dooku looked at it, and then looked at Obi-Wan, and with smiling malice put his foot down on the cube, crushing it beneath his boot, destroying the one valuable that Xanatos had kept safe for him all those years. Killing the last trace he had of his mother.

He was so angry he actually managed to break free. For a moment. Then Dooku had him wrapped up in the Force again, holding even his head still as he kissed him. Obi-Wan tried to bite him again, but Dooku just laughed. "I don't know why you're carrying on like this. It's not as if you can claim to be a virgin. Or that you've never whored yourself. But I like spirit."

And then his hands were everywhere; stroking, pulling, pinching. And Lato was touching him, and his mother had always said to get help if someone touched him like this. No, that was the past. Lato was dead. This was Dooku.

He felt the hand on his waist, slipping into his pants, grabbing his ass. Help. He needed help, but Yarl wouldn't help him. But then Obi-Wan could feel that connection in his mind, the one he'd missed. Xanatos. Xanatos would help. No, that was the past. Xanatos was dead. This was....

And a finger was pushing into him, and he couldn't help it. He screamed down the link in his mind.

::::::::::

"Qui-Gon!"

Qui-Gon dropped the teacup, the feeling of fear and panic nearly overwhelming him.

Obi-Wan. In his head. A bond.

But what should have been a happy moment, joy in a bond that was rare and precious, was filled with pain instead. Because Obi-Wan had called him. Needed him.

And Qui-Gon could never reach him in time.


	18. XVIII. Peripeteia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council wants to find Obi-Wan almost as much as Qui-Gon does.

Qui-Gon packed only the bare essentials, not wanting to waste any more time than he had to. He was at the comp, too rushed to even bother sitting, stopping only because he needed to find out where Obi-Wan and Dooku had been assigned, when he felt the link with Obi-Wan fade.

Without the immediate prod of Obi-Wan's fear, the adrenalin in Qui-Gon's system started working against him, leaving him feeling hollow-kneed and weak. He grabbed the chair behind him, sitting carefully before he fell, struggling to control his own fear over why he couldn't feel the bond anymore. Whatever had been happening to Obi-Wan, it was either over, or he was unconscious.

Qui-Gon refused to believe it could be anything else. He'd know if Obi-Wan were.... He'd know.

Shaking his head to clear it, he decided his first step should be to finish what he'd been doing, and find out where Obi-Wan had been. Where he was, that is. He put the enquiry into the system, but the information came back with the Council's flag. Qui-Gon could have slapped himself for not thinking of that sooner. Whatever had gone wrong, reporting to the Council would be the first thing that either Dooku or Obi-Wan would do.

He was outside the Council chamber in far less time than it should have taken him, but there was no one outside to request an audience from. He managed to get his impatience under control for almost a full minute before he simply opened the doors to the chamber himself.

Instead of a reprimand for entering without permission, what he met was a room full of grave faces. Yoda's ears were drooped so low they were almost flat. 

Qui-Gon felt his heart stop for a moment, before it wildly started beating again. It wasn't... he would know. He would know. Wouldn't he? It was only through strength of will that he managed to ask, "Is he alive?"

Mace's face went from grave to scornful. "Yes, Master Dooku is alive. No thanks to Padawan Kenobi. Or, more accurately, former Padawan Kenobi."

Qui-Gon couldn't take it in. "What are you talking about? Is Obi-Wan alive?"

The scorn was as apparent in Mace's voice as it was on his face. "Your... friend is alive, as far as we know. He managed to get away after his attack on Master Dooku failed."

It was like Mace was speaking a different language, none of his answers making any sense. "His attack on Dooku? What?"

"Kenobi turned out to be just like his master. His first master, that is. He attacked Master Dooku on their last mission. I knew he wasn't meant to be a Jedi, but you and Dooku just had to know better, didn't you?"

Qui-Gon was still at a loss. "It's not possible. He wouldn't do that. And he was frightened, panicked. I felt him. We have a bond."

And the soft murmuring that had been going on throughout the chamber came to an abrupt stop, as everyone turned to look at him. Even Mace looked surprised, and Yoda's ears were now standing straight up.

Mace started to say something, but Yoda raised a hand, stopping him before he could start. Resting his head on his gimmer stick, Yoda looked at Qui-Gon, studying him as if he were something new. 

Qui-Gon let it go on for a moment, but he didn't have the time for this. "This is a problem why?"

Yoda again stopped Mace from speaking, this time by talking over him. "Connected you say you are. Felt what he felt, then?"

"Yes."

Yoda nodded, making his gimmer stick wobble, before he continued. "Interesting. His panic and fear... would these not be the emotions of one who is losing a fight? Even if it was a fight he started?"

Qui-Gon felt like yelling, but he managed to control it, speaking in his best 'I'm a Jedi, and therefore you must believe me' voice. "Yes, those probably would be the emotions of someone losing a fight, even if they were the one who started it. But especially if they were the one attacked. You've known Obi-Wan for a year, now. Surely you can't believe that he would go from the conscientious man that tried to stop the slaughter of the Dakans to someone who would attack his own master?"

"Known Obi-Wan for a year. Known Master Dooku much longer." He waved aside Qui-Gon's objection, continuing. "For his actions with the Dakans he was punished, even though trying to save lives he was. Resent that, he very well might. Heard the two of you I did, the last time he was at the Temple. Told you that Jedi he no longer wanted to be. Said that he didn't fit in here, did he not?"

Qui-Gon was surprised that someone had managed to overhear them that night, but then Yoda had always been sneaky. "He did say that. At first. But later that evening, he agreed to stay. He was going to comm me when he was feeling down, so that he had someone sympathetic to talk to when things got bad."

Yoda nodded again. "But talk to you, he has not, since Dooku forbid it. All the more reason for him to feel anger. Fear. All the more reason he would turn. Think, don't feel, and see this you will."

"I have thought, though I don't believe you have. You're all so ready to believe that he's just like Xanatos, or just like Dooku said Xanatos was, anyway, that you're not even looking at how wrong this is. Don't you find it the least bit strange that Dooku has had two padawans turn? Not just leave the Order, but turn, violently, against him. Against us. Even if you don't trust Obi-Wan, surely you can see that that's odd."

Mace was still scornful, but then he usually was. "One is related to the other. We should never have let Kenobi in, especially when we found out that he'd been with Xanatos. Who knows what Kenobi might have learned from him? But we accepted your judgment, which has obviously been affected by your libido."

"No-," Qui-Gon started.

Mace cut him off. "Yes. You were involved with that boy within days of his leaving another man with whom he'd obviously been sexually involved. A relationship that was basically him whoring himself to get what he wanted. Just like he did with you. You allowed yourself to be taken in by a young, pretty face."

Qui-Gon was going to argue further, but, looking at the stony faces around him, he gave it up. They weren't listening, too determined to believe the worst of Obi-Wan. And Qui-Gon was in too much of a hurry to waste any more time here. 

Turning to Yoda, he asked, "Where were they when Obi-Wan... turned?"

He got a speculative look from shrewd green eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm going to find him. He is a rogue Jedi, is he not? Doesn't that make it my duty to try to track him down?"

Mace shook his head, his frown deepening. "You're going to find him and do what? Elope?"

Qui-Gon just gave him a cool look. "Why I'm going to bring him back, of course."

"Of course. Do you honestly think we'd trust you on this?"

"Am I a rogue Jedi now, Mace? Is anyone who doesn't agree with you one? I guess I should expect that from you, especially considering your padawan's behavior."

Mace glared at him. "What about Bruck?"

Qui-Gon gave him a small, completely insincere smile. "Nothing. Don't listen to me. After all, I'm a rogue, aren't I?"

Mace started to argue, but was once again cut off by Yoda. "Rogue you aren't. Yet. But walking a thin line, you are. Take care that you don't go over it."

"I could say the same thing of all of you. But I guess none of us are willing to listen now. But unless you've decided to put me out of the Order, I want to know where Obi-Wan was when this supposed turning took place."

Yoda stared at him, and Qui-Gon felt the depth of the power that flowed though that small frame in the strength of that gaze. He felt like he was being weighed, and probably coming up wanting. But Qui-Gon didn't care anymore, and he needed to find Obi-Wan as soon as he could, so he just calmly returned the stare.

Yoda was the first one to look away, eyes dropping as he nodded. "Geonosis. They were on Geonosis."

Qui-Gon left the room without another word.


	19. XIX. Verity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out, not that everyone believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I forgot in part 17 to mention that some of the dialog was directly stolen from AOTC, but this time I'm remembering to say that a teeny bit of the dialog is directly stolen from ROTS. Not that it's likely anyone will spot it, but just so you know. ;D

When Qui-Gon landed on Geonosis, he found an escort waiting to lead him to Dooku's room in the Archduke's palace. He tried not to find their presence menacing. As he walked through the warren-like halls, he also tried not to find the palace menacing, but he didn't have much success. Though he wasn't normally prone to anthropomorphization, the very air here had the feel of malice.

When he entered Dooku's chamber, he was greeted by the man himself. "Qui-Gon, my friend. How good it is to see your face in the midst of these trying times."

Qui-Gon frowned at him, wondering how he'd ever been taken in by this oiliness before. "Don't even try. I'm not the Council to be taken in by you. Not anymore."

Dooku gave him a quizzical look. "Whatever do you mean? You've always trusted me before."

"Yes, I did. Even when the Force was warning me not to, I just ignored it. I just hope I'm the only one to have to pay the price for that bit of willful ignorance."

Dropping his air of a used speeder-salesman, Dooku smiled at him through hooded eyes. "You're concerned about your... friend then? Well, he's alive. At least he was when last I saw him."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but notice Dooku's phrasing. "You've talked to Mace."

"Yes, he commed me after you went haring off, determined to bring Obi-Wan back to face the Council for his treachery." His voice and face were utterly sincere.

Not that anyone here believed it. "He's not a traitor."

Dooku raised an eyebrow at him. "You're so sure?"

Qui-Gon waved the question off. "I've ignored the Force long enough. I don't know what your game is, but I'm not playing."

"Oh, no game, Padawan. Serious. Deadly serious."

Qui-Gon shook his head in denial. "Don't call me that. Not anymore."

Both brows were up now. "Why not? It's the truth. I will always be your master. One who should be obeyed, just as I obey mine."

"I'm your student no longer, and I make my own decisions."

Dooku contemplated him for a moment, then sighed. "I taught you many things, but I was never able to teach you to think." He paused before continuing, "But maybe it's not too late."

Qui-Gon didn't understand what the man was going on about, but then he rarely did. "Too late for what?"

"To see how things truly are." Dooku's eyes took on a fervent glow, and his voice went even deeper than normal, as if he could compel Qui-Gon through the timbre. "The Jedi have become too complacent, too full of themselves. Too venal."

Amazed at the sheer gall of the man, Qui-Gon said, "This from someone who I know attacked his own apprentice? Maybe even more than one. I have to wonder what really happened with Xanatos."

Dooku folded his arms across his chest, regal to the end. "I'm simply trying to save what was once the greatest force for justice in the galaxy. With your help, we could restore the honor of the Jedi."

Qui-Gon was incredulous. "How does attacking Obi-Wan help you to do this?"

Sighing, Dooku looked resigned. "He wouldn't listen. I had hoped that you might be able to, but I see that I was wrong in that. I really have done poorly in selecting my padawans. Only Anakin was receptive to all I have to teach."

Running his hands over his face, Qui-Gon gave up on trying to reason with someone who'd obviously lost his. "All of this is between you and the Council. I don't have time for this, nor do I care. All I want from you is to know where Obi-Wan is."

But Dooku ignored him, moving to stand before the only window in the room, his back to Qui-Gon. It didn't stop Qui-Gon from seeing the sly smile that graced his face as it reflected in the glass. "The Council won't believe you about this if you try to tell them what I've said. You've already seen that they don't trust you after your insipid fawning over the boy. They'll believe you're trying to attack me to make him look better."

Qui-Gon had been a Jedi all his life, raised to believe their tenet about the sanctity of life. At the moment, however, he was having problems holding on to that belief. But he wouldn't kill Dooku. He wouldn't stoop to murder. He was above that.

Not to mention that Dooku really might know where Obi-Wan was.

"There's only so many times you can claim you've been attacked, in whatever manner, before even the Council will start to be suspicious. They may be too complacent, but they're not completely incompetent."

Smiling as if he were really enjoying himself, Dooku nodded. "Maybe. But I still have more credibility with them than you. Right now I could tell you that I plan to overthrow the Council and that I raped Obi-Wan right here in this room, and there's little you could do about it."

Qui-Gon paled, the words stabbing right through him. "You raped him?"

Dooku looked thoughtful. "I didn't say that. I said I could tell you that."

The feeling of betrayal was beyond anything Qui-Gon had ever experienced. "You did, didn't you? I know how you are sometimes with young, good-looking men, especially after that incident on Corellia, but I never thought.... Did I ever even know you at all?"

He gave Qui-Gon a considering look, as if trying to decide on his course of action. "You knew what I wanted you to know." Dooku laughed, and it was as if the last mask he wore had slipped away. "He was very good, by the way. Nice and tight, though not so much by the time I was finished. And he cries so prettily. He called for you, over and over, but of course you weren't there to help him. To stop me."

The amusement, the smug tone as he talked about raping Obi-Wan, nearly overwhelmed Qui-Gon's control. He had his lightsaber in his hand before he'd even consciously thought of it.

But still he managed to keep himself form attacking. Just. He wasn't Dooku. He wouldn't ignore his vows. "You say the Jedi have become too venal. What of you? What of the vows you took at your knighting? You have become the very thing you swore to destroy."

Dooku was beginning to look frustrated, though Qui-Gon couldn't figure out why. He was holding out his hand, as if in supplication, but Dooku's voice and words held only contempt. "You do not understand. Will not. Such narrow focus. But I guess I didn't really expect anything different. Know this though. If you're not with me, then you're my enemy."

Qui-Gon nodded, accepting the warning, just as he accepted the one that was coming to him through the Force. It was attack or be attacked now. Dooku had always been one of the best in the order with his saber, but Qui-Gon was no novice. And, after months of being at odds with it, his connection to the Force was now so strong it was thrumming in his veins. "Well, then you are lost."

He moved quickly, his speed enhanced by the Force. He ignited his blade, launching himself at Dooku with a two-handed overhead strike that would end the fight with one blow.

And it would have worked. If it had landed, that is. But Dooku was a blur, barely visible to the eye with the speed of his evasion. Before Qui-Gon could reengage, Dooku's upraised hand glowed, and what appeared to be lightning shot out of it, striking Qui-Gon in the chest, the force of it throwing him into the wall behind him.

Not that he could feel the pain of the impact over the searing burn that ran through his entire body. He released as much of the pain into the Force as he could, not needing the distraction if he was to have any hope of fighting whatever it was that Dooku was doing. But though it only took him a matter of seconds to get up, ready to face Dooku again, the other man had disappeared in the meantime.

Qui-Gon was both disappointed that he hadn't had a chance to stop Dooku, and relieved, because he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to.

But he let both of those feelings go, focusing on what was important. He had to find Obi-Wan. 

::::::::::

Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon the second he walked into the bar, but then, he'd been expecting him. The bond had started singing to him before Qui-Gon even landed on this desolate wasteland of a planet, warning of his arrival.

He'd thought about running, but knew he'd have to face this sooner or later, and he might as well do it as far away from Republic space as he could. The less chance of anyone coming to Qui-Gon's aid the better.

Obi-Wan ignored the man for the moment, not wanting to draw any attention by cutting his set short. He drew his microphone closer to him, his lips almost touching the head, voice low and throaty as he sang. He stood near the edge of the stage, close to the audience that avidly watched him.

He sang to all of them. 

You made me forget myself.

He sang to one of them.

I thought I was someone else,  
Someone good.

He sang to himself.

You're going to reap just what you sow.

And then it was time to stop.

When he left the stage, Qui-Gon came straight for him, but Obi-Wan jerked his head for him to follow, taking them into the small backstage area. None of the other players were there; all of them too busy drinking up the meager wages the Hutt paid.

Qui-Gon reached out to touch his shoulder, but Obi-Wan pulled back. Qui-Gon sighed, looking distinctly unhappy, but Obi-Wan didn't let it affect him. 

After looking around the small room, Qui-Gon pulled two chairs over, and sat in one. He looked up at Obi-Wan, gesturing to the other chair, as if they were just two friends having a chat. When Obi-Wan didn't sit, he sighed again, and said, "I've been looking for you for weeks. I certainly never expected to find you on Tattooine, though. I could almost believe you were trying to avoid me." 

Obi-Wan wanted to believe that light tone of voice, wanted to believe that they were friends, but he couldn't let himself. If he let down his guard, and Qui-Gon took him back, he'd spend the rest of his life, what remained of it, regretting it. So he ignored the part of his mind that said he could trust Qui-Gon. He ignored the warm feelings coming through the bond, instead holding tight to the anger that had been a constant companion for far too long now.

"Just stay away from me, Jedi."

But Qui-Gon simply ignored the anger, smiling warmly at him. "Why?"

Why? The man couldn't be that out of the loop could he? Obi-Wan had known that the Jedi would be after him for what had happened with Dooku. He'd known that when he'd run from Geonosis. And while he hadn't really regretted not being a Jedi anymore, he had regretted that he would probably wind up fighting them if he wanted to stay free. He'd tried not to think about the fact that it would probably be Qui-Gon who found him, considering that they were linked now.

But Qui-Gon was acting like nothing was the matter. And there was no anger coming through the bond. Obi-Wan was confused. He'd thought about what he'd do when confronted, had made plan after plan, but things weren't going the way he'd imagined. Almost afraid to find out the answer, he asked, "You didn't come to take me back?"

Qui-Gon was still smiling when he said, "Yes, I did. But not as you're thinking, not as your jailer. I know Dooku attacked you, not the other way around."

And it was like a weight had been lifted off of him. And it had, the weight of all his doubts dissipating. It had been too long since he'd been able to trust anyone fully, as long as it'd been since he'd shared a bond. He hadn't been sure, not completely, anyway, that Dooku had been lying about Qui-Gon being a voluntary part of his plans.

He let the warmth of Qui-Gon's presence comfort him for a moment, until it occurred to him that nothing had really changed. He sat down beside Qui-Gon, shoulders slumping. "What good does it do? Just because you believe me doesn't mean the others will." But he felt a little sting of hope, and asked, "Or do they know what happened?"

But now Qui-Gon's shoulders were slumping. "No. Dooku told them you had turned, and they believed him." He snorted. "They didn't even find it suspicious that you were supposedly the second apprentice he had that had turned."

Obi-Wan nodded. He hadn't really expected anything else.

Qui-Gon wasn't finished, though. "I confronted Dooku on Geonosis. He told me about his plans for the Jedi." He paused, his face going tight. "And about what he did to you. We wound up in a fight, but I didn't win, unfortunately. After he left, he told the Council that I'd attacked him, that I was trying to help you get away, and, amazingly, they still believed him."

It was even worse than Obi-Wan had thought, but in a way it made him feel better. At least they could be fugitives together now, without Obi-Wan having to feel guilty about keeping Qui-Gon from the Jedi.

But Qui-Gon was going on. "I still want us to go back."

Obviously the strain of being considered a rogue Jedi was getting to the man. "They believe I've turned, and that you're following in my path, and yet you want to go back?"

Qui-Gon smiled again, and Obi-Wan could sense his faith that things would work out. He either had a good plan, or he was crazy. Possibly both.

"What I'm going to suggest isn't something I'd agree to under normal circumstances, but I can't see any way around it, unless we want to be on the run for the rest of our lives. And I don't want that, nor do I want Dooku being able to go ahead with his plans unobstructed."

Obi-Wan was certainly behind any plan that put Dooku in his place. "What is it you want to do?"

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then said in a ponderous tone, "A reading."

And Obi-Wan waited a moment for that to make sense, but it didn't help. "A reading? What the hell is a reading?"

Which made Qui-Gon laugh. "I forget sometimes how little time you've spent with the Jedi. You seem so much more suited to it than some who've been with the Order their whole lives. Some Jedi have the ability to perform a reading, a scan of someone's thoughts and emotions. It's invasive and not a little painful, leaving nothing hidden, but it would be accepted as the truth. No one can lie during a reading."

None of this was sounding particularly appealing, but Obi-Wan guessed it might be better in the long run than having to avoid Jedi for the rest of his life. Of course, Xanatos had managed it without even knowing he had to, but Obi-Wan's luck wasn't exactly the best.

He smiled when a thought came to him, though. "Why don't we have it done to Dooku then? That would tell them the truth, and put the burden on the right person."

"Yes, it would. But they won't do an involuntary reading, and he's not likely to agree to one. Even the innocent would hesitate, after all. I wouldn't suggest this if I thought there was a better way. I've never been the subject of a one, but I've seen someone after they've been read. I don't want to try to fool you. It wasn't good." He paused again, weighing his words. "It's not unlike a rape."

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon looking at him intently, as if he were waiting for him to do something, but Obi-Wan was at a loss to figure what it was. Sure he was missing a cue somewhere, he said, "Well, that sounds... bad. But I guess I can live through it if it means putting Dooku in his place."

Qui-Gon's stare was even more intent now. "He will pay for what he did."

And Obi-Wan could feel the anger that was bubbling under Qui-Gon's concern. He knew he was missing something now. "Are you trying to tell me something here? Because I'm not getting it."

A hand reached for Obi-Wan's shoulder again, only to pull back. "He'll pay for... hurting you. Like he did."

It was coming clearer. Dooku must have said something to Qui-Gon to set him off like this. Now if Obi-Wan only knew what. "For hurting me how?"

Looking stricken, Qui-Gon said, "The rape."

Obi-Wan almost laughed, but it would have been just a shade too close to hysteria for comfort, so he tamped it down. "He didn't." 

Now Qui-Gon looked like a weight had been lifted from him. "But he said...."

"I'm sure. He's a bastard. And it wasn't as if he didn't try, and came far too close for comfort, but I did convince him to reconsider."

Qui-Gon gave him a truly brilliant smile. "And how did you convince him?"

Obi-Wan sighed. He hated going over the past, especially the less than happy bits, but Qui-Gon was always so determined to know everything. Obi-Wan could still feel the concern that was radiating from him. If he'd had any sense, he would definitely have run before Qui-Gon had landed, but it was too late now. It had probably been too late the day he'd met Qui-Gon.

Well, since running away hadn't worked, he guessed he could give running to a try, even if it meant talking about things he'd rather forget.

"At first, I couldn't get enough control over the Force to fight. I was scared and I was panicking, and he's very strong. And... something like that had happened before."

Qui-Gon's smile faded. "Before?"

Obi-Wan sat back in his chair, looking at his hands, trying to avoid Qui-Gon's probing eyes. "After my mother died, two men took me in. It wasn't a good situation, to put it nicely. That's when I met Xanatos. One of the men was trying to... and I was scared, so I called through the bond for help, even though I didn't know what it was. But he couldn't get there fast enough."

Qui-Gon got paler, so Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, he didn't rape me. I stopped him. Xanatos said he'd never seen someone so young use the Force like that." And Obi-Wan smiled, because the memory of Xanatos was still pleasant, if the time around it wasn't. "I had just let loose, though I didn't know what I was doing, and everything in the room was flying, was a weapon. And I killed him that way."

Even fifteen years later, he could remember how horrible it had been to feel that life fade, even if he had been terrified of Lato. But he could also remember how much better his life was after that, and looking back on it with an adult's perspective, he could see that it truly hadn't been his fault. He took a deep breath, releasing the pain the memory brought into the Force. 

Qui-Gon was smiling again. "I noticed when I saw Dooku that he had bruises and scratches all over his face and hands."

Obi-Wan smiled back. Or maybe it was a smirk. Whatever, it felt good. "Well, the tried and true methods are often the best. After a while, I calmed down enough to gain control, and I made a deal with Dooku, and then I left."

"A deal?"

"Yes. I offered not to neuter him if he offered to leave me alone. I think we both came out happy with the deal."

This time Qui-Gon didn't just reach out a hand, and he didn't stop. He stood, pulling Obi-Wan up into his arms, holding tight, murmuring in his ear, "I'm very happy with that deal. Well, I wouldn't have minded if you'd neutered him, but you take the good with the bad." Then in a near whisper, "I love you."

And the bond hummed with it, too intense to be comfortable, but too necessary to forgo. It wasn't something that Obi-Wan had ever really thought to have, but he'd take it. He'd even agree to let the Council 'read' his mind, even after he'd kept Dooku from 'reading' his body, because it would make Qui-Gon happy, and that worked for him.

"Love you, too. Now let go. I still have another set to do."

And if every song in that last set was a maudlin love song, no one complained about it. At least not after Qui-Gon stared them down.


	20. XX. Anamnesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read: to remember, to relive, to regret

When they'd arrived on Coruscant, they'd been met by guards. Obi-Wan was sure that they'd be separated then, locked away. But he'd underestimated the Council, for once, anyway.

They'd been brought to the Council chamber, though only Master Windu and Yoda had been there. There they'd been instructed to tell their side of things, which they had, and both the councilors had given every sign of listening.

But when they were done, nothing had changed. Obi-Wan could still see the suspicion and dislike that radiated from Windu and Yoda. 

Mace was looking at them as if he expected them to attack at any minute. "Master Dooku isn't here at the moment to answer your claims. He's not scheduled to be back at the Temple for several days, as he's finishing the assignment that he and Padawan Kenobi were sent to handle before... well, before this whole thing started. We will have to ask that the two of you remain here until this situation has been assessed completely." 

In other words, they were going to be separated, and locked away. He was starting to wonder if he could just grab Qui-Gon and run, when Qui-Gon started sending waves of calm through the bond. He turned to Obi-Wan, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Do not worry. They'll agree to do the reading. They'll know the truth then."

And it was sort of comforting, though Obi-Wan was still not looking forward to having someone poking around in his memories.

It was almost worth the whole thing just to see Windu's face after Qui-Gon asked for the reading. Yoda simply looked at them, as if he could see through them to judge their intent.

Windu was still gaping like a fish when Yoda nodded. "Reading we will do. Padawan Kenobi, do you agree to this?"

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, though, Qui-Gon offered, "Perhaps you could just do the reading on me, Master Yoda. My confrontation with Dooku will show that he was lying to you. There's really no need for more than that, is there?"

But Yoda shook his head. "Master Dooku's meeting with you is one issue only. Whether Padawan Kenobi has turned, this is the main thing. Determine this will the reading. If turned he is not, then Master Dooku's word we will know to be false."

Now that the moment was here, Obi-Wan began to wonder if he could really do this. He didn't even like talking about the past, and now he was going to let someone root around in his, root around in his head. His stomach was starting to flutter, and he knew he was breathing harder, when he felt Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder, offering comfort. The man really did have a shoulder fetish.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He'd agreed to do this. And not just for Qui-Gon. Maybe not even just because of Xanatos. If he could be a Jedi like Qui-Gon, like Xanatos had always said it could be, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. And if Dooku could be stopped from carrying through his plans for the Order, maybe Obi-Wan could be that type of Jedi. Not that it was all that likely, but it might happen. And it would mean that he and Qui-Gon could be together.

"I am ready, Masters. I agree to be read."

Master Windu came forward then, his face stern and solemn. "I will do the reading. Come with me, Padawan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan started to follow him, his stomach really churning now, but Qui-Gon kept his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I want to be present for the reading."

Windu stopped, looking back at him. "Readings are always done in private."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, they're usually done in private. But there have been cases where a Master was present when his padawan was read. I request that right."

"You are not his master. He may not even be a Jedi when this is over. Nor may you."

But Qui-Gon wasn't going to be dissuaded, a fact that Obi-Wan was rather pleased with. He didn't really want to do this in the first place. He really, really didn't want to go through it alone.

Qui-Gon was using his negotiator voice again, the one that said 'do it my way and save yourself some time and effort.' "I have already put a request to become Obi-Wan's master before Master Yoda."

Yoda nodded at that, but didn't make comment.

Pausing, as if searching for the best way to say something, Qui-Gon finally continued, "You've been against Obi-Wan since he first came here, and don't bother to deny it. It's been obvious. I don't want to take the chance that that bias will have some affect upon the reading."

Windu looked grimmer than usual. "Are you suggesting that I would lie about what I see to make it seem like he's guilty if he's not."

Qui-Gon looked a little chagrinned at that, but not enough to back down. "I'm sorry, Mace. Truly I am, but I need to be there with him. I've already made too many mistakes here. I can't risk any more."

Obi-Wan decided it couldn't hurt if he made his wishes known. "I'd like for him to stay, Master Windu."

Mace was still looking a little suspicious, but it was tempered by sympathy. "With the two of you there, both of you strong in the Force...."

He didn't finish, but Qui-Gon seemed to know what he was talking about, even if Obi-Wan didn't get it.

"That wouldn't be good, either, because it might be said that we'd altered the read in some way."

Mace sighed, almost all of the suspicion gone now. "Yes, and I think that would defeat your purpose here."

Yoda spoke then. "The read, I will do. Alone."

And Obi-Wan was ready to have it over with, but Qui-Gon wasn't done yet. Obi-Wan could feel the anxiety that was driving him, and wondered at what was behind it.

Qui-Gon bowed to Yoda, but his face remained set. "I need to be there, Master. I don't know why, but the Force is asking this of me." Qui-Gon sighed, shoulders slumping for a moment. "He had to face Dooku alone; I'm not letting him face this by himself."

Yoda looked ready to argue, but Mace broke in, addressing Qui-Gon. "I believe I have a solution that will solve this dilemma. Master Yoda can do the read, and you and I will stay as witnesses. You'll be tied to Obi-Wan through the bond, and I can put a light trace on Master Yoda. It will guarantee that no one interferes with the read from either side, and yet allows you to be here." He turned to Obi-Wan. "It will mean that more people will be aware of what the read finds, but you did want Master Jinn to stay. Will this be satisfactory to you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. This was all spiraling away from him, and his stomach was spiraling with it, but he wanted it over with, and he wanted Qui-Gon with him. "Thank you, Master Windu. That will be satisfactory."

Yoda looked irritated, but he also nodded. "Kneel before me, Padawan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect, but the slight tickle in his head wasn't it. Not pleasant, but not horrible either. This wasn't going to be so difficult after all. 

And then the flood began.

His mother was smiling as she put him into his bed in the little cubby that was hidden from the rest of the room, and a customer was knocking at the door, so he had to be quiet, because his mother didn't want anyone to know he was here, and he was supposed to be quiet regardless of what he heard, but the sounds were different, and he was a little scared, and he wasn't ever supposed to come out when a customer was there, he'd promised, never ever, but the noises were so much louder than usual, and his mother was crying, and she never cried, and the customer was laughing, and he shouldn't laugh when she was crying, so he went out to see, even though he'd promised never ever, and his mother was on the floor, naked, arms wrapped around herself, and the customer was naked, too, but he wasn't crying, and Obi-Wan went to hug his mother, because that always made him feel better, but the man grabbed him and wouldn't let him go, and his mother was crying more now, and telling Obi-Wan to go back to bed, but the customer wouldn't let go, and he kept trying to talk to Obi-Wan, telling him how pretty he was, but all Obi-Wan wanted was to go to his mother, but the man wouldn't let go, and then his mother was yelling at the man again, and she was up and hitting him, but he laughed, let go of Obi-Wan and knocked her down, and Obi-Wan tried to hit him, but then he was being held again, and something was wrong... and then the world was fuzzy, and Obi-Wan was so tired, like he'd been running for hours, and the man was gone, and his mother was holding him and telling him everything was all right. And everything was all right.

Until a week later, his mother was dead, and the man was back, with Yarl, who he'd never liked, always wanting him to pretend things, and steal, and lie to people, and it didn't feel right, but his mother said to, so he did, and the man said, "My name's Lato," and he was looking at Obi-Wan funny, and it just made him want his mother more, but she wouldn't come back, and everything was all wrong, and it would never be right again.

He'd not really understood. He'd thought they'd be sharing his memories, but they weren't. They were sharing the event as if it were happening again. And Obi-Wan was truly afraid now. There were too many things in his life that he could barely stand to remember. He didn't think he could actually relive them again.

But the choice wasn't his anymore, and the tickle was turning into a burn, and he had no choice in that, either. 

He'd thought that he'd left thieving behind when he'd gotten away from Yarl, and he'd been happy enough about that. Not that most of Yarl's marks hadn't been able to afford to lose a lot of money, and still have a lot to get by on, but Yarl had never cared about where the money came from as long as it came to him, and sometimes it had come from people who hadn't had any to spare. Like those here now.

Obi-Wan had tried to avoid stealing from the people in the neighborhood they were squatting in, the poorest of Sintane's poor, but they needed the money now, Xanatos needed the medicine now, and the doctor had taken up all he'd managed to steal from the last couple of days. He didn't have time to be picky, especially considering that they still needed food, too. 

No one here could afford to lose as much as he needed, but he could manage. A little from all of them instead of all from one. He'd find a better mark later, one who could afford the loss, and he'd pay them back. It was the best solution he could think of. 

He was quick, and the job was done, prices haggled until he could afford everything they needed with everything he had. And he ignored the empty place inside as he coaxed medicine and food down his master's throat.

It was really starting to burn now, and he didn't think he could do this. He tried to tell Yoda that he was too far back, that there were many years in between what he was looking at and what he needed to see, but he got no response. He tried to tell Qui-Gon, but it faded into another memory.

It was hotter than usual today, and all Obi-Wan felt like doing was lying down in the scant shade and not moving until the harsh sun finally set. But they hadn't had a successful hunt in days and their food was almost gone. So he kept moving, kept looking for any sign of life in the wastelands that made up Kushor-An. 

He kept looking until sunset, the moonless night not providing enough light to hunt by. If he'd studied harder in his lessons in the Force like Xanatos wanted him to, he'd be able to hunt better even without the light. As he returned to the camp empty-handed he felt like crying for his failure. Xanatos would never have even been on Sintane or Kushor-An if it hadn't been for Obi-Wan. He wouldn't have had to go through all of this if he hadn't saddled himself with a useless student. He stiffened his back, forced the tears back. He was almost twelve now, far too old to be crying like a baby.

Obi-Wan couldn't undo what had already been done, the bad luck that had followed them since he'd killed Lato. But he could do his duty by his master. That he could do.

Xanatos turned and smiled at him as he entered the camp. "No luck, then? Well, sit down and rest. We still have a little mirtos meat left, and there's some water here."

Obi-Wan's stomach started to grumble at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten since yesterday, and he was so hungry, but he looked at Xanatos, at the lines that Sintane had put on his face, and the mass that Kushor-An had stolen from him, and he forced the thought down while he gave a small laugh to cover the sound of his stomach. "That's all right master, I've had something today. I found a gana lizard. He wasn't really large enough for both of us, but he was more than enough for me, anyway. You eat it."

Xanatos sat down, drawing Obi-Wan onto his lap. Obi-Wan wanted to pull away. He wasn't a baby to need to be cuddled. But he wanted to stay even more. Xanatos rocked slightly, and kissed the top of his head. "I appreciate the thought, Obi-Wan, I do, but never lie to me. I'm older, and far better versed in the art than you are anyway. I'm also far better able to judge which of us is in greater need."

Obi-Wan started to protest, but Xanatos just kept going. "I know you had to take care of me on Sintane, and I'll always be sorry for that. Not because you didn't do a good job, but because it took what little childhood you had left to you. And it's not as if Kushor-An is giving you a second chance at one, either."

He stopped talking for a moment, but Obi-Wan was silent, letting the rocking, the comfort, sink into him.

Xanatos kissed the top of his head again, resting his cheek there. "I can't give you that, but I can make sure that you have enough food to survive, if not enough to flourish. Let me do that for you, Obi-Wan. Let me give you this, at least."

The tears wouldn't stop this time, but Obi-Wan didn't care, because Xanatos was crying, too. And Obi-Wan was hungry, tired, and heartily sick of this horrible planet, but Xanatos was warm and it felt good to be hugged like this, and even though Xanatos wasn't saying that everything was going to be all right, he felt like it anyway.

They shared the mirtos meat, and it was the best meal that Obi-Wan had ever had.

Obi-Wan could have almost smiled. He'd forgotten that, that moment of comfort, of love, in the midst of the hell that Kushor-An had been. He tried to hold onto it, but the burn had turned to pain, and it was scattering his thoughts. 'Qui-Gon?' He called through the bond, but he couldn't hear if he got a reply as thought and pain pulled him down.

It was a long time ago, and he'd been very young, but he was still pretty sure that his mother had said the first time hurt. And it kind of did, but it felt sort of nice, too. Very nice, really. When Malan's hands had first touched him, he'd thought of Lato, and he'd had to struggle to keep his face blank, not wanting Malan to regret the deal. But those touches raised feelings in him that he hadn't expected, and Lato had been the last thing on his mind. 

He'd been prepared for pain, looking forward to it, in a way. Prepared to suffer for all that he'd done, for all the steps and mistakes that had led to this bed; Lato and Xanatos both calling to him from the thirteen valleys. The pleasure had left him floundering and unsure, until he'd realized it was a gift, a moment when the ever-present pain and anger were both subsumed in something hot and sharp, something that hurt in a way that was beyond pain. And if it embarrassed him far more than his intermittent attempts at masturbation had, it was also far more pleasurable. He finally understood why his mother had sometimes had that little smile on her face after one of her customers had gone. 

Malan kissed him before he left, promising that he'd get Obi-Wan his interview with Belo, First of the Entertainers' Guild, tomorrow. As he left, Obi-Wan realized he understood a lot of things about his mother now.

Obi-Wan was crying now, ashamed that Qui-Gon could see this, would know exactly what he'd done, what he'd been. Not that he hadn't told him, but telling was different than seeing. Maybe he'd be disgusted with Obi-Wan, that he'd enjoyed the sex, even when it had had a price tag.

He tried to close his mind to Yoda, tried to stop the flood of memory, but Yoda just pushed past any barrier he could put up, and the pain increased every time one fell.

The last lash across his back finally broke Obi-Wan's reserve, his determination to stay quiet, and he screamed at the pain that burned through him, in him.

Malan's voice came from behind him, shaking. "Let him down."

The restraints were unbuckled from around his arms, and he fell, no strength to hold him up. He felt Malan's arms raising him, encircling him, and he tried to pull away, but he was held tight. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, but you left me no choice. You have a contract. If I hadn't spoken to Belo, you would have had far worse than this. Please, little one, no more escapes. No more."

And Obi-Wan could tell that Malan was upset, but he wasn't in the mood to care. He didn't care about Malan, or Yarl, or Belo. He didn't care about contracts, or Guilds, or Duvalpore. All he cared about was how much he missed the Force, how much he missed Xanatos, how much he missed having a life that wasn't completely controlled by someone else.

But his life wasn't his own, and it didn't matter what he wanted, so he smiled, and pretended that he was Ok. And Malan pretended to believe him.

'Please, no more. Please make it stop. Please, no more. Please make it stop.'

Begging had never helped him before, but he was desperate for the memories to end. 

'Please, no more.' 

But there was.

Vant had been panicked, the whites of his eyes visible all around the irises, his breath coming in fast pants. "Don't let them send me back, Obi-Wan! Don't let them!"

Obi-Wan had had no say in what they did with him, hadn't even been conscious when the decision was made. He'd failed in his escape. He'd failed his friend.

But they hadn't sent Vant back. He'd gotten his wish. And Malan had promised that no one had touched him again. That it had been a quick death. He should thank Malan for that.

One day, maybe he'd be able to.

Obi-Wan didn't fight it anymore; just let Yoda go where he wanted. It was all coming so fast now, and Obi-Wan couldn't remember a time before this, before pain.

But then he could.

He'd always hated when Malan had taken him from behind. It had felt like too great a loss of control. Not that he'd ever really had any, but he'd at least liked the illusion.

But he didn't need either illusion or control now. He needed Qui-Gon's cock to push hard into his body while he held tightly to the edge of the table. He needed to feel the weight of the man draped across his back, the strain in his leg muscles as they were pushed to their limits by the press of Qui-Gon's thighs between them, the almost unbearable friction as the edge of the table brushed against his erection with every thrust.

Sweat dripped on him, rippling skin with goose-flesh, ice and hot flashes running through him. Teeth scraped the lobe of his ear, bit into the flesh on his shoulder. A callused hand rubbed along his cock in counterpoint to the table, to the cock wildly pounding in his ass.

The rhythm stuttered, faltered, slowed, liquid heat filling him, hard hand gripping him, orgasm scouring through him, leaving only the illusion of thought behind. 

Obi-Wan could feel a tiny pulse, the bond making it through his connection to Yoda. Qui-Gon's joy in that memory as strong as Obi-Wan's own. He held it tight, a talisman against what was coming.

Bruck was sneering, as always, brushing up too close beside him. "You're such a tease, Obi-Wan. Obi-Wannafuck."

"And you're such a wit. How can I resist you?" Obi-Wan didn't even try to keep the boredom out of his voice.

But Bruck was immune to people being bored by him, and paid it no mind. "Yeah, how can you resist? Why should you?" He stopped in the middle of the kata they'd been set to perform, the master in charge of the class too far away to pay them any attention. "We could ditch this class, go to my room, and I could fuck you until you can't walk straight. What do you say?"

Obi-Wan kept on with the kata, not wanting to give the master any more reason to complain about him. He didn't bother to put scorn in his voice, because he'd already learned that Bruck was impervious to that, too, so he just kept to the boredom. "Tempting... but no."

Bruck fell silent, joining back in the kata as the master came back to their side of the room. As the master was passing by them, he kicked out, catching Obi-Wan in the leg just as he was going into a pivot, causing him to fall.

The master turned back, looking down at Obi-Wan, shaking his head. "This is a kata that an initiate should know. You're going to have to work much harder than that if you want to get caught up to your peers." 

It was obvious from the way he said it, that he didn't think that Obi-Wan could do it, but Obi-Wan had learned not to argue about that, either. He just stood up and bowed, resuming the kata. And ignored Bruck's laughter when the master moved away again.

He felt another mind, now, felt its shock. Windu, he thought. For some reason, his presence made the pain lessen, and Obi-Wan hoped that he'd stay, but the presence faded, and the pain returned, and then they were there.

And the finger was pushing into him, and he couldn't move, and it hurt, and Qui-Gon wasn't here, wouldn't be here. He felt Dooku rubbing hard against his hip, holding him still. Lips pressed against his, Force keeping his jaws from closing over the tongue that raped his mouth.

Tongue and finger were moving in him, but he couldn't move. And it was Lato all over again... and the memory was there, eyes staring dully at him as life faded, Yarl's screams coming from the corner as a room full of odds and ends continued to swirl around them.

Obi-Wan let go then. He felt the shudder as the statuette from the table by the door smashed into the back of Dooku's head, followed closely by the piece of crystal from the desk that scratched along Dooku's face, and the small painting of the moons of Geonosis that had been hanging over the couch that laid scrapes on Dooku's hands as he tried to ward it off.

Dooku's startled yelp as he was attacked by all the decorations in the room was nice. Being released from the Force hold was nicer. Oh, yes, this was a lot like that time was Lato. If Dooku was lucky, it wouldn't end exactly the same.

And it was over, that was they memory they'd needed to see.

Except it wasn't ending. Instead it was all starting to kaleidoscope together, and it hurt so much that Obi-Wan couldn't help but scream. He heard Qui-Gon's voice, raised in fear. Windu's voice was almost shouting, calling for someone to stop, but it still went on, further and further in, and it hurt, it hurt. 

::::::::::

Qui-Gon sat on the floor, exhausted, Obi-Wan in his lap, head resting against his chest. It was probably an undignified position, but he couldn't care less at the moment. The read had been difficult, especially there at the end. Yoda had become trapped, not able to break the connection between Obi-Wan and himself until Mace and Qui-Gon had helped. It had pretty much drained them all, though Obi-Wan had taken the brunt of it.

He saw Obi-Wan's eyes slit open, felt the mind behind them grow stronger over the bond. He stroked the soft hair, grown too long in his time away from the Temple, let the simple, repetitive movement calm the residual pain in both of them. "It's over, all over. Everything will be all right."

Qui-Gon felt a pang spike through the bond, and remembered that Obi-Wan's mother had said that to him, only to be proved wrong. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stir that memory again."

Obi-Wan nodded, giving him a small smile, and let his eyes drift close.

As he discussed things with Mace and Yoda, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's pleasure in the hand on his hair, the sound of Qui-Gon's voice as it rumbled in the chest beneath his ear, and Qui-Gon let that pleasure keep him calm even as Yoda tried very hard to make him angry.

"Conclusive this is not."

Mace's eloquent snort said it all for Qui-Gon, and he felt content to let the other man handle this.

There was more than a touch of exasperation in Mace's voice when he said, "Master Yoda, I know Dooku was your padawan and your friend, but you can't overlook this. I saw the memory, the same as you. He attacked the boy, not the other way around. Even if you were to believe that Obi-Wan might have done something before that memory takes place that might have made Dooku believe that he had turned, it can't possibly explain why he was trying to rape him."

The amusement that Qui-Gon had been feeling at Mace dressing Yoda down disappeared at the word rape. When Obi-Wan had described what had happened to him, he hadn't realized how close it had been. He felt his anger at Dooku growing again.

Yoda's head was bowed, sorrow lining the already lined face. He nodded, then turned away. Qui-Gon could barely hear the mournfully whispered, "My padawan. What have you done?"

Obi-Wan was starting to stir again. Ah, the resiliency of youth. Qui-Gon was still exhausted, and he hadn't even had to go through the reading, though he'd felt some of the pain of it.

He was startled out of his contemplation of Obi-Wan, however, when Mace said, "Padawan Kenobi mentioned something that I'm wondering about. He said that Dooku had told him that his master had seen that the Jedi were too corrupt, that a new Order had to be built. Did he say any of this to you, Qui-Gon?"

And until Mace had mentioned it, Qui-Gon hadn't registered it. "He said something about obeying his master. I just ignored it, thinking he was crazy. What are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon." Mace turned back to look at Yoda. "I wouldn't bring this up, I know it can only bring you more pain, but I believe it's necessary. I think that Dooku might be more than just a rogue Jedi. I think he might have truly meant that he has a master now, that he wasn't just referring to the time he was with you. And if he has a master, one who's telling him about the need to overthrow the Jedi, then I believe he might have fully turned. That he might be a Sith. A Sith apprentice, at that, which means that we might have a bigger problem on our hands than we thought.

Qui-Gon shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "The Sith are long extinct. And even if they'd risen again, surely we would have felt it. Someone in the Order would have felt it."

Yoda was staring into the distance, his eyes gone hazy. "Hard to see, the dark side is."

Obi-Wan had been listening quietly to what they said, but in the silence that followed Yoda's pronouncement, he got up form Qui-Gon's lap, stretching slightly.

Qui-Gon's appreciation of the stretching was interrupted by Mace saying, "We still have much to talk about, but the first thing that needs to be said is an apology."

He stepped over to them, taking one of Qui-Gon's hand and one of Obi-Wan's. "I offer my sincerest apologies for failing to listen to you. I had reasons, but I see now that my reason might have... strayed from what it should be." He looked directly at Obi-Wan. "Especially with where my padawan is concerned. I assure you, Padawan Kenobi, that you will be receiving an apology from Padawan Chun as well. Once he has returned from Sertil, that is."

Obi-Wan grimaced at the mention of Sertil, and Qui-Gon was hard pressed to keep from doing the same. It really was a disagreeable place. 

Mace smiled at the grimace, obviously familiar with the joys of Sertil himself. "I can't promise that things will be better overnight, but I will work hard to see that some good comes out of this whole mess. Regardless of what his real aims might or might not be, Dooku is right in some ways. The Jedi have become too complacent. I have. But we can learn from our mistakes."

His smile faded, his face becoming grim again. "And correct them. We'll need to find Dooku, before he can do any more harm."

He shook the hands he held in his, placing Qui-Gon's on top of Obi-Wan's. His face was still solemn, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "And I believe I know just the master and padawan to take on the task."

Qui-Gon felt something in him relax that he hadn't realized was tense. He'd not allowed himself to believe that things were finally resolved, that he and Obi-Wan were finally where they should be. And though Mace could keep a straight face in this moment, Qui-Gon was too happy to hide his smile. "Well, I know of a master and padawan team that would be happy to do so."

He felt Obi-Wan's relief over the bond. Seems Qui-Gon wasn't the only one who had still doubted. Well, they'd been given enough reason, but things were coming around, as they ought. He felt a momentary pause as he remembered his last confrontation with Dooku. He and Obi-Wan were good. He was sure they'd be able handle Dooku, as long as they were together.

Still, why take stupid chances. "Considering what Dooku is able to do with the Force, I'm thinking we could use a little help." 

Mace was smiling, again, but it was his dangerous one, this time. "Yes. He'll not be allowed to get away again."

Yoda had been letting them go, seemingly lost in his sorrow. Qui-Gon understood, as it had hurt him to think of his master being so different than what he'd believed, and he'd had more time to come to grips with it. But Yoda was strong, and practical, and he looked ready to address the situation now. A small grin lit his face as he said, "The council has agreed to your request, Master Jinn. Padawan Kenobi's master, you now are."

Qui-Gon pursed his lips, working hard to repress the 'Took you long enough' comment that wanted to break loose. The "The council has agreed?" one just slipped out of him while his attention was elsewhere.

But Yoda's grin just got larger, though he tapped his gimmer stick on the floor in mock annoyance. "Agree they will when I tell them they have."

Mace laughed, but he nodded his agreement. "They may grumble, but they will agree. They always do."

Obi-Wan bowed to them. "Thank you, Masters." He paused for a moment, looking at Qui-Gon. "It's good to be home."

And Qui-Gon could only agree. It was good to be home.


	21. XXI. Redress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoda apologizes, and Bruck makes amends... of a sort.

“Listen to you I should have.”

Qui-Gon almost started as he came up from his meditation. He hadn’t heard Yoda approach, but then the small master was always a little sneaky. He didn’t answer for a moment, considering his reply. “I missed this. The meditation. I went months without it, and I felt that lack every day. Anxious, angry, unable to release it to the Force. It was like always being on an edge, always being too close to out of control. And it made me doubt myself, even at the best of times.”

Yoda settled beside him. If not for his robe, he would have been hard to spot amidst the green of the garden. “Help it did not, my doubting you.”

“Help it did not. Help it did not that I ignored the Force in the first place. If I had been paying attention, so much of this wouldn’t have happened.”

Yoda nodded, looking into the distance. “Changing the Order is. Positive change, away from the darkened path we were treading. Paying attention to the Force, I was not, walking that path with all the rest. If ignored the Force you had not, this change….” He voice trailed off, eyes sharp with some unnameable emotion.

Qui-Gon thought about what Yoda had said. If Obi-Wan hadn’t gone through what he did, hadn’t faced the slights of his peers without the aid of a master who would intervene to stop it, hadn’t been subjected to the painful reading, would Mace and Yoda have seen what was happening? 

The Council had become used to dismissing Qui-Gon’s concerns about the Order as his ‘rebel’ ways, but they couldn’t dismiss what had been seen in Obi-Wan’s mind; an outsider who, instead of being welcomed with the compassion that should have been at the core of the Jedi, was instead disdained for possessing that compassion himself. 

Maybe things had played out for the best. Qui-Gon remembered the rest of what he’d seen during the reading. Maybe not.

“It’s a moot point, and I’m better with what is rather than what might have been.”

Yoda’s lips quirked in a grin. “Your strength it is. Strength in your stubbornness, too. Held out against possible censure you did, against the threat of being considered a rogue Jedi.”

Qui-Gon answered with a grin of his own. “I’m not stubborn, I’m decisive.” He ignored Yoda’s snort and continued. “And Obi-Wan needed me.”

“Know you. Just for Obi-Wan your fight was not. For the Jedi also.”

Grin disappearing, Qui-Gon nodded. “I’d been fighting little battles, this mission gone bad, that bit of injustice. Broken up like that, looking at the pieces instead of the whole, I hadn’t realized how close we were coming to losing the war altogether.”

Yoda drew his knees up, resting his head on them, lips pursed. “The war is still not won. Years to go before the Jedi can truly become again what they were. Many chances for missteps along the way.”

“We are on guard now, Master Yoda. A misstep here or there won’t keep up from the right path.”

But Yoda’s eyes were still dark. “On guard now, yes, but the path is twisted. Easy to follow it won’t be, and on guard the Sith are, as well.”

::::::::::

Obi-Wan had smiled when he felt Qui-Gon coming out of his meditation. He had been very careful not to bother him while he was meditating, knowing how much Qui-Gon had missed being able to do so, but now he was fair game.

Over the last couple of days, since the whole mess with the reading, Qui-Gon had been ridiculously overprotective, treating him as if he were fragile, barely touching him. As he followed the trace of the bond down the long halls of the Temple, his smile turned predatory as he thought about all the different ways he could show his new master exactly how not fragile he was.

He was very close to his prey when he became prey himself.

“If it isn’t Obi-Wann… if it isn’t Obi-Wan.”

Bruck stood before Obi-Wan, blocking his path. He looked tired, and not a little worn around the edges. Sertil really was a bitch of an assignment. 

Hearing the old nickname cut off, he had an idea what this meeting was about, but he couldn’t resist a little dig. “Obi-Wan is it? What happened to Obi-Wannafuck?”

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Bruck avoided looking at Obi-Wan directly. “Yes, well about that… I just wanted to apologize.” His voice held more of reluctance than remorse.

Obi-Wan smiled. He could easily translate the ‘I just wanted to apologize’ to ‘My master told me to apologize, and, after Sertil, I’m not about to cross him.’ He could almost feel sorry for Bruck. Well, if Bruck weren’t taking the opportunity of not looking him in the face to check out his body, he might have felt sorry for him. Maybe.

If Bruck had actually been looking at Obi-Wan’s face, he might have seen the impish look that crossed over it. Moving closer, Obi-Wan stood with a canted hip, putting the body that had been so thoroughly studied on full display.

Voice husky, sultry smile on his lips, Obi-Wan placed a hand on Bruck’s arm, giving a slight squeeze. “How sweet of you. I’d always wished we could be… friends. It was only because I thought you were teasing me that I was so stubborn.”

Bruck finally looked up, clearly surprised. “You did?”

Obi-Wan gave him his best stage smile, the one that used to make his audience moan. “Oh, yes.”

Swallowing hard, Bruck smiled back. “Yes, of course. Jedi shouldn’t be at odds with each other.”

“No. Who knows when we might need to work closely together?” He put extra emphasis on the word closely, not trying to hide the innuendo.

Breathing quickening, Bruck licked his lips. “Yes, exactly. We might have to… work together.”

Obi-Wan nodded, drawing nearer, moving his hand to rest lightly on Bruck’s chest. “Closely.”

Face now flushed, Bruck eagerly nodded. His “Yes” was drawn out, sibilant.

“Did I ever tell you how clever I thought your little play on my name was?”

Bruck started to nod, ready to agree to anything Obi-Wan said at this point, but then stopped, confused. He obviously knew it was crude, not clever, but the heat that Obi-Wan could feel so close to his still-canted hip guaranteed that he wasn’t going to argue. 

“I felt… inspired when I thought of it.”

“I’m sure you were.” Obi-Wan was almost plastered against Bruck now, eyes half-lidded, voice almost a purr. “But you missed part of it.”

Bruck seemed to barely register that last part, too intent on the body now so close to his. “Missed part of it?”

“Yes. It’s not Obi-Wannafuck. It’s Obi-Wannafuck Qui-Gon.” He pulled back, his smile showing teeth, prey turned to predator. “And you need to go take a cold shower.”

Bruck had just enough time for a scowl to appear on his face before the Force compulsion took hold, sending him down the hall to a nearby fountain. Without hesitation, Bruck climbed over the edge of the fountain. He was soaked in seconds, clothes and hair plastered to his body. Neither the water nor the compulsion dampened the scowl in the least.

He was back out of the fountain almost as soon as he was in it, moving with intent towards Obi-Wan, but the startled murmurs of several passing masters stopped him, and he seemed to deflate under their scrutiny.

With a last dark look at Obi-Wan, he stalked off down the hall, Obi-Wan’s call of “Apology accepted” following him. 

Obi-Wan was still smiling happily to himself when he felt Qui-Gon behind him. Uh oh. He turned to face his master, trying to see how much trouble he was in.

Qui-Gon had his arms crossed, stern look on his face. He looked very forbidding.

He might have pulled it off if it weren’t for the fact that Obi-Wan could feel the laughter that was bubbling out across the bond. Obi-Wan laughed out loud, happy in this moment. So much of his life had changed so quickly, but, unlike so many changes before, this one was much appreciated. 

“And I had thought Xanatos had taught you impeccable manners. It appears that I’m going to have to teach you how to accept an apology gracefully.”

Moving close to his master, mirroring the posture he had taken with Bruck, he smirked. “I do have lovely manners.” He kept going right over Qui-Gon’s laughter. “But Jedi are still human. Well, they’re still some kind of fallible being. I’m never going to be perfect.”

Qui-Gon nodded, the stern face melting into a warm smile. He pressed closer, and Obi-Wan could once again feel the heat of arousal close to his hip, though this time it was far more welcome.

“Not perfect, no. Which is good, because otherwise I probably couldn’t talk you into this.” 

And then Obi-Wan found himself being pushed back into the garden, back through large, green fronds obscuring them from passing eyes, back into a tree in a far, dark corner. Found his lips being devoured in hot, soft kisses, cock being stroked by large, rough hands. Found what he needed for this moment, from this man, and gave it in return. 

And if it wasn’t perfect, neither of them had the sense to notice.


	22. XXII. Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox to hounds and back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The consensus on this chapter was that... well, that I'm a little evil, but then that kind of went without saying. ;)

They were too late. After months of searching without much success, they’d finally tracked him to Corellia, but Dooku had fled the planet a full week before they got there.

Qui-Gon and his team did a complete search, splitting up to cover as much of the planet as possible. The only trace that Qui-Gon found of his former master was a small astro-mech droid that had reportedly been purchased by him. He’d taken it back to their ship, studied it, questioned it, gone through its database, but all he could get from it was that it belonged to one Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Even knowing that it was likely a trap, Qui-Gon felt that he had no choice but to show the droid to Obi-Wan. None of the other Jedi were reporting any success in their search, and Dooku was getting further away all the time. But when Obi-Wan returned to the ship, looking curiously at the droid, he just shook his head. “I don’t seem to remember ever owning a droid.”

At the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice, the little droid bleeped, domed head spinning, and a small holo-projector started playing.

The recorded Dooku was standing, body very much at ease, smirking. “Hello, my Padawan. Oh, but not mine any longer. I’m sure you’re enjoying Qui-Gon’s… instruction. He was always very talented. But if you wanted to learn anything of importance, like how to hunt, you should have stayed with me, because Qui-Gon will never teach you that. I only regret that I couldn’t… see you one last time.”

And they were both moving, even before the last of the recording played. They’d cleared the ship, moving with Force-enhanced speed, but they still weren’t quiet fast enough to avoid the blast that gutted the ship, sending flame and shrapnel flying. 

For a minute, Qui-Gon just lay there, ears ringing, body a chorus of pain. His head was spinning, and he couldn’t tell where all the pain was coming from, unsure if it was just his, as even the bond was like an open wound.

He felt a hand on his face, gentle, but leaving more pain in its wake. He pulled eyes open that were weighed down by more gravity than he could bear, only force of will managing to overcome it. Obi-Wan’s face was in front of him, blood streaming down it, mouth moving over and over, soundlessly. Focusing on those lips, Qui-Gon realized that it wasn’t Obi-Wan who was soundless, but him. 

He saw the lips form his name one more time, then the gravity won out, and dark and pain rushed in.

::::::::::

They were too late once again. The Malastare spaceport control had cleared Dooku’s flight just an hour before they got there. They’d sent ships out after him, notices to all the nearby systems, but Obi-Wan knew that the man wouldn’t be found so easily. 

He sighed, disgusted. It had taken them almost two years to get this close, two years of leads mysteriously drying up, two years of false sightings, of Dooku managing to escape scant days before they got there. 

He looked at Qui-Gon, saw the sadness in his eyes, knew that his master was thinking the same thing he was. It was far too great a coincidence to think anything else. 

“Someone is helping him. Someone who knows far too much about our movements.”

Yes, that was it. And even though Obi-Wan had had a fair amount of trouble with some of his fellow Jedi, it still bothered him to think that one of them would be secretly aiding a rogue. A Sith. But as much as it bothered him, Obi-Wan knew that they had to find the informant. Had to bring Dooku down. 

He’d been willing to let his former master go, unconcerned with the man as long as Qui-Gon’s and Obi-Wan’s own place in the Order wasn’t in jeopardy. He’d hated what Dooku had done to him, but it wasn’t the worst that had ever happened, and he’d been content enough to let it go. 

But that was until the little present the man had sent them had almost taken Qui-Gon from him. His master had spent a week in a bacta tank, and even then it had been a close thing. It had taken many weeks past that point before he was anything close to his former health.

During those long days staring at the broken flesh that lay at the other end of his mind, hearing nothing but the painful silence where Qui-Gon had been, he’d vowed that Dooku would have to be stopped. He couldn’t be allowed to endanger Qui-Gon again.

And yet someone was helping Dooku. Feeding him information. Obi-Wan had suggested it before, finding the amount of near misses they’d had suspicious, but the Council had dismissed the idea. And Obi-Wan hadn’t fought it, not sure that it wasn’t just paranoia on his part. After all, Dooku was strong in the Force. It could have been that strength that was keeping him one step in front of his pursuers.

But even the Force had limits, and so did his credulity. Obi-Wan was now sure there was an informant. Whether the Council agreed or not didn’t matter. Let the others chase after phantasms; he was going to find the leak.

::::::::::

Looking down at what had once been the Supreme Chancellor, Qui-Gon shook his head, sickened. “Why would he kill his own informant? And how did he get on Coruscant in the first place?”

But Obi-Wan didn’t turn and look at him, instead staring out the large windows that made up the walls of the Chancellor’s office. His voice, when it came, was soft, almost a whisper. “We don’t know that the Chancellor was Dooku’s informant. And we don’t’ know that he did this.”

But Qui-Gon shook his head. “We traced the leak to this office.” He looked down at the body again, having to use the Force to keep down his nausea at the sight. “And those are definitely saber wounds. That’s obvious even with what little there is left to judge by.”

Obi-Wan just nodded, not offering anymore.

So Qui-Gon went on, listing more of the circumstantial evidence they had. “Palpatine and Dooku are… were friends, or, at least, they’d always seemed to be. Though at one time Dooku had seemed to distrust him, but then he was never fond of politicians. One thing the two of you did have in common.”

Qui-Gon had expected a smile over that last comment, some reaction at least, but Obi-Wan still faced the window, and Qui-Gon could barely feel anything from him over the bond. 

“Obi-Wan?”

His apprentice finally turned to look at him, though his eyes were still distant. “Yes, Master?”

But Qui-Gon didn’t answer, knowing that he wouldn’t get any answers while Obi-Wan was like this. Qui-Gon had come to recognize that distant look all too easily, though he didn’t like it. 

Obi-Wan had not been naturally predisposed towards more than a mild prescience, more strong intuition than anything else, but Mace had been encouraging him in developing the ability, training him himself when both Qui-Gon and, surprisingly, Yoda had declined to. Qui-Gon hadn’t liked the idea, since he felt that visions only encouraged a Jedi to focus too much on what might be rather than what actually was, but he let the lessons stand, not wanting to deny Obi-Wan a skill just because it was one his master didn’t much care for.

The lessons hadn’t done Mace much good in the eyes of his own padawan, something he seemed oblivious to, but Obi-Wan had proved to be an apt pupil, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked. It had become all too frequent that Qui-Gon would be having a conversation with his apprentice, only to find himself having the conversation with himself, as Obi-Wan fell into visions about anything and everything. Or nothing at all, sometimes.

His musings were brought to a close when Obi-Wan shook his head, eyes focusing on Qui-Gon. “I’m sorry, Master. Did you say something?”

“I said I thought these visions were a bad idea, but you didn’t listen to me anymore this time than you did previously.”

This time Qui-Gon got the grin he was expecting, though it didn’t do much to quell his worry.

But Obi-Wan knew him too well, and answered his thoughts rather than what he’d actually said. “I’m careful, Master. Qui-Gon. I can turn the visions aside if necessary. They will not distract me in a fight. And Master Windu has said that the frequency of the visions will wane once our lessons stop.” The grin grew larger. “And I promise to mind the here and now regardless of what I might see.”

Qui-Gon returned the grin, responding to the humor, but taking the promise to heart, knowing Obi-Wan would work hard to keep it. “And what did you see this time?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes went distant again, but this time just in memory. “It was too vague as yet, Master. But it has to do with this, of that I’m sure.”

::::::::::

Qui-Gon had explained the situation to Yoda, once again expressing his surprise over Dooku’s actions.

But Yoda just nodded, a pensive look on his face. “Almost came to the Temple did Chancellor Palpatine, when youngling he was.”

Qui-Gon was surprised, but wasn’t sure why Yoda was mentioning this now. “I did not know that, Master.”

“Strong in the Force he was, but ambitious his parents were, so come to us he did not. Come to us as a youngling another child of Naboo did not, that one also very strong in the Force.”

And now Qui-Gon could see the connection, though it wasn’t one he’d ever considered. While somewhat oily, a consummate politician, Palpatine had never seemed particularly evil to him. Though neither had Dooku, and he’d known him much better.

“You’re right; Anakin didn’t come to us as a child. Someone had done a good job of keeping his Force sensitivity from registering. And Palpatine did know him from infancy. He was prone to filling Anakin with thoughts of entitlement and privilege, even after he became an apprentice. And, as a Senator and as Chancellor, Palpatine would have been in a prime position to influence the Jedi, too.” It all made a twisted sense now that Qui-Gon considered it. 

Yoda’s ears flattened, his face fully showing his sorrow. “Way of the Sith it is for the apprentice to kill the master. Perhaps new Sith master there is, or perhaps the same one. Without an apprentice he is regardless, now that Anakin and Obi-Wan are beyond his control. Protect the younglings we must, or else a new Sith apprentice there will be.”

Qui-Gon bowed, agreeing, even though he knew how impossible it would be to protect them all, especially if Dooku moved on to non-Republic worlds. There were far too many children, some very strong in the Force, who would never find a home in the Temple. Obi-Wan had come very close to that fate himself. 

But the sheer hopelessness of the task was brought home to them when Obi-Wan spoke, his voice once again soft with prophecy. “Not just the younglings, Masters. Not just the younglings.”

Yoda had his head cocked, eyeing Obi-Wan with some concern, but then he nodded. “So new Sith apprentice there will be, regardless of our caution, unless stop Dooku first we do.”


	23. XXIII. Aggress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dooku gets the drop on Qui-Gon and drops on Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes this time. First, I hate writing action scenes. It's not a strong suit of mine, but I went to a lot of effort on this, so think nice things even if you have to lie to yourself about it. ;) Two, things are going to start becoming transparent now, if they haven't already been, but we are getting really near the end, so there. Three, this has huge bits stolen from pretty much every Star Wars movie there was, so play along with my 'Which movie is that from' game!

"Utapau."

Qui-Gon looked at the unprepossessing planet. "Hardly a hotspot. I wonder why he came here."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was here once. I was only about six at the time, and Xanatos wouldn't let me out of his sight the entire time we were here. He said that you'd never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than Utapau."

"Well that would explain Dooku's presence."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Actually, it wasn't anywhere near that bad. Kind of boring, really; just cliffs, caves, and rivers. But there were these very cool lizards that supposedly could be ridden. These very cool, very large lizards."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I see. So the villainy Xanatos was worried about was yours. Would you have been likely to have tried to ride these very cool, very large lizards if he'd told you not to?"

"Qui-Gon, I was six. Xanatos could have threatened me with incarceration and I still would have tried for a ride. Having to hold his hand for the entire time we were here was an amazingly effective deterrent however."

Obi-Wan so rarely shared information about his past, even about the happier times, and Qui-Gon had come to treasure when he let something slip. "So I see you have a long history of ignoring the instructions of your master, but at least now I've learned how to deal with it."

All he got in answer was a dirty look, since Obi-Wan was now engaged in piloting the sheer cliff walls that the city was built in.

Looking at that face so caught up in concentration, bottom lip bitten as if it helped the effort, Qui-Gon felt a moment of disconnect, almost terror. He didn't know if it was a warning from the Force or simply his own fears speaking, but he wouldn't ignore it either way. "I have a bad feeling about this."

That got a quick look from Obi-Wan, but he was too busy piloting to question him about it, and then Qui-Gon was busy coordinating with the other teams as they landed, making their way into the warren of caves that made up Utapau. Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan lead, making sure that he had his apprentice in his sight the entire time.

::::::::::

They'd had no help from any of the local authorities, just a bland welcome that did little to mask their fear, and bland smiles in faces where eyes pled for help.

Realizing that they were being observed, the Jedi accepted the verbal assurances that Dooku wasn't there, making their way back to their ships. 

Mace's voice came over the comm, detailing the plan. "All teams should split up, one of the team taking the ship into orbit, the other making their way into the city. This is a scouting party only, and no one should engage Dooku if they find him. When he's been located, we'll bring the others back, and apprehend him then."

Giving his Ok, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan, intending to tell him that he should be the one to take the ship up as he was the pilot, but Obi-Wan was already closing the ship up.

"GeeNine, take the ship up into orbit. Wait for either my or Master Jinn's call to return." Obi-Wan tapped at the droid's head, standing back as the ship's engines engaged, the droid wasting no time in following his instructions.

"So I see you have problems following all masters' instructions, not just mine and Xanatos'."

But Obi-Wan just gave him a quick smile. "Neither you nor I was going to leave the other here, so why argue about it. And we'll need as many Jedi here as possible if things go wrong."

Qui-Gon felt that thrill of warning again, looking to Obi-Wan's eyes, but they were focused on him. "Not a vision?"

"No, you know I promised not to let myself be distracted by them in dangerous situations, which I think this qualifies as. It's just a... what did you call it? A bad feeling. If I had any real reason to suspect trouble, I would have warned Master Windu."

It was too late to do anything about it anyway, but Qui-Gon wished that Obi-Wan had left with the ship. But he didn't say anything more as they scouted through the city, using the Force to mask their presence as much as possible.

They hadn't been looking for long when Qui-Gon heard a familiar voice up ahead. The passageway was leading into a hangar, light from the open hangar door spilling out into the hall where he and Obi-Wan were. 

He was wondering what to do when he felt Obi-Wan tap his shoulder, pointing to a small lip of rock that overhung the hangar, just wide enough for both of them.

Qui-Gon alerted Mace to where they were, ignoring Mace's splutter over both of them being there, before they made their way cautiously up to the overhang. Rocks along its edge allowed them to view the hangar below while being shielded from any casual observation.

Dooku stood before a motley assortment of beings and droids, which included far too many droidekas for Qui-Gon's comfort. The battle droids could be very well shielded and difficult to fight. But he was even more nervous about the organic components of the group. There were two humans, battle-scarred and hard-bitten, one of whom had a lightsaber hanging from his belt. A Jedi killer, then. There was also a creature that was unknown to Qui-Gon, but it over two meters tall with body mass to match, the tentacles that hung from his face making him look even more menacing.

But the one that really worried Qui-Gon was the one in full body armor, face shielded by a blast visor. The amount of visible weaponry on that armor only made it more likely that there was far more hidden, and the man stood with the easy assurance of someone who knew just how dangerous they were. 

Dooku had assigned each of the droids an area to patrol before he turned back to the others. "There will be a substantial reward for the ones who find Jinn or Kenobi. You are free to use any methods necessary, but," and here he looked at the one in armor, "no disintegrations. I want them alive if at all possible."

But before any of the group could leave for their assignments, Dooku held up his hand, staying them. His eyes turned up to where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Well, that's convenient. They're here."

Qui-Gon called Mace on the comm. "We've been spotted."

"The others haven't landed yet, but we're right outside." And even as Mace was saying it, the group of Jedi were entering the hangar.

As Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan jumped down to the hanger floor to join them, Dooku's men and droids attacked. Mace was faced off against Dooku, lightsaber drawn and lit, but before he could attack, he was surrounded by five droidekas, drawing him away. 

Qui-Gon called to him, "We'll handle this." 

He and Obi-Wan shrugged out of their robes, drawing their lightsabers, moving to flank Dooku.

He smirked at them. "Would you attack an unarmed man?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, almost amused at the man's games. "Do you honestly think I believe you're unarmed?"

Dooku held his hands out to either side, as if to demonstrate his lack of weapons, but at a feint from Obi-Wan, he somersaulted over their heads, landing behind them, Force lightning arcing out of his hands towards Qui-Gon.

Blocking the attack with his saber, Qui-Gon felt his muscles straining against the pressure and power that Dooku was throwing at him.

He felt the angry pulse from over the bond a moment before Obi-Wan attacked, his lightsaber cutting through the air towards Dooku's throat. But the blow never landed, as Dooku pushed Obi-Wan back with the Force, sending him skidding across the slick floor of the hangar to crash into the wall.

While Dooku had his attention on Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon initiated his own attack, moving his saber in a quick sweep, giving Dooku little time to react. But little was enough, and Dooku was out of reach as three of the droidekas came barreling up to Qui-Gon. He turned his back on them, focusing on Dooku, but he sent one of the large weights from the hangar door pulley crashing into them as he pressed towards his opponent. 

Dooku finally drew his own saber, parrying Qui-Gon's attack, the smirk still on his face. The smirk was warning enough even without the Force for Qui-Gon to send his blade in a backwards arc, decapitating one of the droids that had managed to escape the weight before it could fire at him.

Qui-Gon brought his blade around again as Obi-Wan somersaulted over both of them to land behind Dooku. 

But Dooku wasn't fazed by the two-prong attack at all, bringing out another lightsaber to counter Obi-Wan's. He set both his blades to spinning in a deadly circle, the twirling blades coming closer and closer to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, almost impossible to defend against.

Obi-Wan dropped, getting up and under the other man's guard, his own blade slicing through one of Dooku's. Before either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan could take advantage, Dooku had Obi-Wan in a Force hold again, dragging him up by his neck before throwing him into the wall again, hard.

He hit with a pained grunt that didn't tell Qui-Gon much about what shape he was in, but, though Qui-Gon could feel more than a little pain coming through the bond, Obi-Wan waved him on, directing his attention back to where it should be. 

But before Qui-Gon could engage Dooku again, his attention was drawn to the fighting going on around them, as the man in the armor shot out of bolt of cable, snagging one of the Jedi, Fisto, in its coils before he could avoid it. Qui-Gon never had a chance to go to his aid before the blaster bolt hit Fisto, propelling his body in a backwards arc until it was brought short by the pull of the cable. The Jedi was dead before he even hit the floor. 

Qui-Gon had only a moment to feel the horror of the situation before he saw the armored man aiming at Obi-Wan, who was just managing to get up. Qui-Gon froze only for a moment, but it was enough, and he knew even as he called his warning that it wouldn't be in time. 

Obi-Wan's head snapped up to see the danger he was in at the same moment that Mace's blade sliced across that danger's throat, separating head from body. The head went flying, landing with a hard clang several feet away from the body, the helmet coming off with the impact, rolling quickly away from the now still head, clattering across the floor to fetch up at Obi-Wan's feet.

Mace just had time enough to shout at Qui-Gon to pay attention before he was facing the two scarred humans, their lack of Force sensitivity not hindering the deadliness of their attack in the least.

But Mace's warning came too late, and Dooku laughed as he dropped a huge hunk of the landing platform right on top of Qui-Gon.

::::::::::

Obi-Wan felt the rage flow through him as Qui-Gon was crushed by the platform, the comforting buzz form the bond dimmed just as it had been from Dooku's 'gift' for them over two years before.

Knowing he couldn't attack with his anger, he struggled to release it to the Force. His attempt at control was made all the harder as Dooku started talking, his voice taking on that unctuous tone that made Obi-Wan's nerves crawl. 

"Your friends are outnumbered, overwhelmed. They should give up before it's too late for any of them."

Obi-Wan ignored him, throwing himself at the other man, knocking him to the floor. They struggled for a moment before Dooku rolled on top of Obi-Wan, pinning him to the floor.

"I'll win this fight. And you." He leaned in close, his tongue snaking out to lick down Obi-Wan's face. "I'll take you right on top of Qui-Gon's dead body."

But Obi-Wan had much better control than he'd had last time Dooku had done this to him, and with the help of the Force they were rolling again, Obi-Wan coming out on top. He had his saber out, pushing against the resistance of Dooku's hands to cut it down towards his neck. But Dooku hit him with a Force wave, sending him flying, landing on his back with his legs in the air, the breath in his lungs leaving in a pained grunt.

The unevenness of the ground beneath him let Obi-Wan know that he'd landed on someone, the bite of the metal armor telling him who it was. As he struggled for air, he rolled off the body, coming to rest before the sightless gaze of the dead, disbelieving eyes that were lying several feet away.

"There is no escape, Obi-Wan." Dooku was standing near the edge of the docking area, back lit by the light streaming in from the hangar door. He was holding his own lit saber and Obi-Wan's in a dueler's pose, his form perfect. 

Even with the seriousness of the moment, and the real danger they faced, Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh. "You always were a melodramatic bastard."

But Dooku wasn't deterred by Obi-Wan's sarcasm, caught up in the scene he was creating. "Don't make me destroy you. Join me, and I will complete your training."

Obi-Wan sighed, his head down, his shoulders sagging. He rolled up, coming to rest on his knees before Dooku.

Dooku's face was full of victory as Obi-Wan pulled out the blaster that had belonged to the dead man he'd fallen on, shooting Dooku in the chest.

The victorious look was replaced by one of amazement, Dooku staring intently at Obi-Wan for an eternal second, before he fell, plunging back over the edge of the hangar, dropping the long, long distance down to the water below.

Obi-Wan was up, running to the edge, looking over for any sign of Dooku's body, but he'd disappeared, leaving not a trace. 

He turned back to the fight, ready to help the others even before he went to his master, but Mace and the others had already won, the floor littered with bodies.

Only one of them mattered to Obi-Wan, and with no other obligations to stand in his way, he went to Qui-Gon's side, almost afraid of what he'd find.

But Qui-Gon was awake, largely unhurt, and already trying to remove the platform. Obi-Wan helped Qui-Gon to get free, but soon regretted it as his master pushed him away as he tried to check him over for injuries.

"Qui-Gon! Lie still until I can make sure you're all right. I swear, you're worse than a child."

But Qui-Gon just smiled at him, continuing to get up. "I lived many years without you, my Padawan, and I think I can be counted on to know if I am hurt."

Obi-Wan tried very hard to hold his scowl, but when Qui-Gon gave him a quick kiss, he couldn't help but smile. 

Qui-Gon ran a finger along a bruise that was forming on Obi-Wan's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

He was about to make a facetious remark about living many years without Qui-Gon, but his eyes were drawn to the hangar door, and he said, "I would feel much better if I could see Dooku's body."

Qui-Gon nodded, his face turning serious. "Between your shot and the fall, he cannot have survived. We will find him."

Obi-Wan nodded, but he didn't really believe.

::::::::::

The Jedi searched the cliffs and the rivers that cut through them for miles out from the city, but they found no sign of Dooku's body.

The now grateful locals mentioned that the currents of the rivers were strong, and the water deep. They'd lost bodies that way before, never to recover them.

Mace had smiled then, something Qui-Gon wished he wouldn't do, as it wasn't a good look for him. "So the body's lost, but at least this whole thing is over."

Obi-Wan was still looking down into the water below. His voice was soft, barely audible over the ambient noise. "No. It's not."

He looked up then, his eyes distant, seeing nothing that Qui-Gon could see. "He's still out there. Licking his wounds." He paused, his voice going even softer. "Running to his master."

Qui-Gon was surprised, but not very much. Dooku had always been wily. Even before Qui-Gon had known him for what he was, he'd always known not to underestimate the man.

But Mace was shaking his head, obviously not wanting to believe. "But Palpatine's dead...." He trailed off, doubt clear in his face.

There wasn't any doubt on Obi-Wan's face. "And he wasn't Dooku's master."

"But if it wasn't Palpatine, who is it?"

Obi-Wan's eyes focused, the vision ending. "It's... too hazy. I can't see." He sighed, taking Qui-Gon's hand in his. "I just can't see."


	24. XXIV. Penultimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knight or pawn?

"Headstrong... and he has much to learn about the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he will learn from me."

Xanatos had believed in this.

"Confer on you, the level of Jedi Knight the Council does."

Qui-Gon had believed in this.

"Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you. Need that, you will, to face what is coming."

Obi-Wan never had. But here it was all the same.

"Rise, Knight Kenobi."

Then the members of the Council were crowding around him, congratulations flying, but Obi-Wan could barely hear them, his head so high in the air that all of Coruscant was below him.

He might have floated away altogether if he hadn't seen Bruck standing sullenly in the corner, staring at him, the now habitual glare on his face.

Obi-Wan sighed. He'd tried, after that one moment of glory, to make his peace with Bruck, but it appeared that it was never going to happen, especially not after this. 

Obi-Wan being on the team looking for Dooku when Bruck had not been, even though his master had frequently assisted them, had been a blow to Bruck's pride, fueling the dislike that had already been present. 

When Master Windu had then taken an interest in teaching Obi-Wan about Force visions, a skill Bruck had never mastered, that dislike had grown, resisting every one of his master's exhortations to release it to the Force, and every attempt Obi-Wan had made to overcome it.

Now, with Obi-Wan being knighted early because of how he'd handled the situation with Dooku, while Bruck was still waiting for that honor, the dislike had morphed to outright hatred, a dark aura that hung over Bruck like a shroud.

Obi-Wan sighed again, moving towards Bruck even though he knew anything he said would be unappreciated, but Bruck turned and left, leaving shadows and regrets in his wake.

Dismissing the gloom, determined to enjoy his day, Obi-Wan saw Master Windu looking at the door his padawan had left through, face blank, showing nothing. 

For a moment, Obi-Wan's sight faded, blurring towards a different kind of vision, but it never really formed, ghosts of what might have been dancing across his mind; Bruck never a Jedi, Bruck dead, Bruck happy and smiling, looking up at a different master. 

That last gave Obi-Wan pause. He'd always wondered at the way Windu dealt with his apprentice, especially after he'd taken lessons from him. From the interaction he'd seen between Bruck and Windu, Obi-Wan had expected the man to be a harsh teacher, demanding, stinting of praise. But he'd been patient, easy to get along with, pleased with any amount of progress. 

Obi-Wan could only shake his head at the difference. Perhaps some people were just better with short periods of instruction, without the pressure of being a master weighing them down.

His thoughts were interrupted by his own master. " You cannot help Bruck unless he wishes it, nor can you make Mace less blind."

Obi-Wan knew it was true, but he couldn't help the formless worry that seemed to be gnawing at him. He knew better than to say that to Qui-Gon though. "Yes, Master."

He could have saved himself the effort, though, as Qui-Gon could feel the worry through the bond. "Don't center on your anxiety, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now where it belongs."

It was an old argument, comforting in its familiarity. He was hard pressed not to laugh as he said, "Master Windu says I should be mindful of the future...."

Qui-Gon grinned at the response, but played along with him. "Not at the expense of the moment. Be mindful of the living force, my young padawan."

And Obi-Wan was floating again, as he remembered. "Not your padawan any longer, my Master."

Qui-Gon's face turned wistful as he traced a hand along Obi-Wan's face. "Not your master anymore, then."

But Obi-Wan just shook his head, grinning. "Always that."

Before the conversation could descend any further into treacle, Yoda smacked his gimmer stick against the floor, calling everyone's attention to him. His face was solemn, sad, as he said, "To Dagobah I am going. Tired I am, and too long have I waited to mourn the loss of my apprentice."

The small shoulders sagged under the weight of his loss, but Yoda drew himself up, iron will visible in the line of his body, in the look on his face. "Hoped I had that some miracle could redeem him, that some good could come from him again. Loved him like a brother did I, but there is only one way it can end now."

He nodded to himself, eyes looking inward. "To Dagobah I will go."

And slowly, his years hanging visibly on him, he made his way to where Obi-Wan stood. He patted Obi-Wan's hand, smiling up at him. "Congratulations. Much control have you learned in your time with Qui-Gon, more than anyone gave you credit for. A gift to this order you have been, and a gift to Qui-Gon."

Turning towards Qui-Gon, he winked, swatting him lightly on the leg. "Wait until you are in your quarters to unwrap him, you will." 

Qui-Gon laughed, watching as he walked away, but the laughter died as Yoda's gait relied heavily on a stick that was normally an affectation.

He turned to Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan was looking after Yoda, vision teasing at him for the second time that day.

But the vision never fully formed, trickling away as Yoda's presence faded from the room.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing." But there was a little hesitation in his voice, which Qui-Gon was quick to catch.

Like Mace had before him, he stared out the door that Yoda had gone through, but his face wasn't blank, worry clouding his features. "I know I told you not to focus on your anxieties, but I think I might have been wrong this time. Something... something feels wrong."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Something is wrong, but I can't see it clearly."

"Not clearly? But you see something?"

"Yes, Master, I see something."

"What do you see?"

"Death. I see death, my Master."


	25. XXV. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone makes plans, someone has sex, and someone dies... all things end.

“It’ll be our first time.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “The first time since this morning, maybe.”

But Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling. “No, the first time with you as a knight. No more apprentice, no more master. Equal.”

Qui-Gon was so caught up in the meaning of the moment that he was startled when Obi-Wan pushed him, toppling him back on their bed. He let his body relax into the fall, bouncing on the mattress until Obi-Wan came to rest on top of him.

With a predatory smile, Obi-Wan ran his hands up under Qui-Gon’s tunic, giving little flicks to hardening nipples, teasing, just how Qui-Gon liked it.

“No more master. No more contract.”

The word contract sent a small chill through Qui-Gon. He knew that Obi-Wan didn’t stay with him out of obligation, but even the hint bothered him. “No contract with me. Ever.”

And the predatory smile turned warmer, softer. “Never ever.”

Qui-Gon laughed, the phrase recalling a childhood he knew too little and too much about. “Never ever.”

He reached to pull Obi-Wan closer, but his hands were pressed down, and Obi-Wan leaned in, his face intent. “Close your eyes. Let me touch you now.”

Qui-Gon had played with Obi-Wan like this several times, but rarely let him reciprocate, usually too eager to touch. Too much in control. But they were equals, and he would give way with pleasure.

Obi-Wan trailed kisses across his face; across eyelids, down the crooked nose, along the edge of his beard. He flicked his tongue out, catching the bow of Qui-Gon’s lip, the valley beneath it, then pulled back, breath already coming quicker. “I never thought to be a knight, never ever.”

He pulled Qui-Gon’s tunic completely off, running firm hands down the long length of torso, over the swell of his chest, the dip of his navel, the planes of his hips. “Never thought to have this, never ever.”

He moved to the end of the bed, pulling off Qui-Gon’s boots, his pants, leaving him bare to Obi-Wan’s hungry gaze. “Never want to lose it, never ever.”

The plaintive note in that voice he loved so much, with its measured cadence, its elegant Telosian accent, drove straight into Qui-Gon’s heart, into his cock. He was hard and aching in so many ways, and he wanted to touch so badly. But he couldn’t.

Obi-Wan must have seen his struggle, because he smiled, running warm hands up Qui-Gon’s now naked legs. Then he was standing, making sure he had Qui-Gon’s eyes, removing his clothes with deliberate care.

The need to touch grew in Qui-Gon until he couldn’t resist, darting a hand out to stroke along pale, soft skin, just uncovered.

But Obi-Wan pulled away. “Just lay back. Let me give you what you’ve given me.”

And then he was naked, and there was friction, the exciting pull of flesh on flesh, hard over soft, hard over hard. The tickle of hairs catching. The pool of heat, warmth calling to warmth. Give and take, muscles drawing tight, then release.

And every touch, every pleasure, echoed through Qui-Gon’s mind, pulsed across the bond until he couldn’t feel anything but the body inside his, the mind inside his.

When the world started to intrude again, he resisted, but his senses overrode his desires, and he became aware in pieces. The thrum from muscles well used. The ache from flesh well stretched. The heat of a body close by. The stickiness that had resulted from the others.

And a soft sound in his ears, half-singing, half-talking, voice rough from use, from emotion. Just put me inside you, I would never ever leave.

The voice tailed away, the feel of the mind inside him dimmed, flesh drawing back, until Qui-Gon was just himself again. But the connection was still there, proof against need, loneliness. 

That connection was a tool, helping him and his apprentice… he smiled to himself, knowing he would make that mistake again, but that Obi-Wan would just correct him with a smile… his partner be a more cohesive team, giving them an edge that stood them well in their all too frequently dangerous job. 

It was a whip to stand firm in his convictions, the sense memory of how Obi-Wan had felt during his initial time with the Jedi an added fillip to Qui-Gon’s desire to bring the Jedi back to where they should be, to make sure that Dooku and any like him never had the chance to bring them down again.

It was also more than enough reward for any good he’d ever done in his life, would ever do. And it would never ever leave.

Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan into sleep; sated, happy. It was more than enough.

::::::::::

Yoda was humming to himself as he made his dinner, throwing spices in the small pot that was boiling merrily on the stove. He stirred with a spoon that was nearly bigger than the pot, happily absorbed in his task, not seeing the shadow that spilled over the doorway, the hint of movement behind him.

The shadow loomed, its edge lapping against Yoda’s robe, the man casting it coming closer, within striking distance.

Yoda stopped humming only long enough to say, “Not enough dinner for such a large thing as you. Make your own you will have to.”

Then Dooku was kneeling in front of him, his head nearly brushing the ceiling of the hut even while on his knees. His normal sartorial elegance, impeccable grooming, had given way to rents and dirt, the lined face haggard.

“Please, Master, I need your help.”

“Beyond my help, you are.” Yoda’s genial face was hard, eyes darkening in anger. “Beyond my help, all of this is.”

“Nothing is beyond your help. Please, Master.”

Yoda’s face cleared, and he gave a small sound of exasperation as he went back to stirring his pot. “Never had any patience. Never listened to me as you should. That lack of patience, that willfulness ruined my plans for the Jedi.”

Dooku shook his head hard, his desperation showing on his face. “No, Master. Your plans weren’t ruined. You have exactly what you wanted. The Jedi are no longer on the same corrupt course they were.”

Dooku’s usual reserve was gone, his voice eager in his need to convince Yoda. “Ever since the whole debacle with Palpatine, with my informant,” he gave a wry grin here, putting extra emphasis on the word informant, “the Senate hasn’t held the same level of power that they did, not with everyone knowing that the very head of that institution had been corrupt and aiding a fugitive from the Jedi. With the Senate wielding less power, and with the Jedi back on their course as guardians, there’s far less chance for abuse of power. It will never stop permanently, that’s not to be expected, but even in the last couple of years, things have improved. It’s exactly what you wanted. You should be happy with what I did.”

His face was as sincere as he could make it, but Yoda just snorted.

“Exactly as I wanted, hmm? Did all of this for my cause?” Yoda’s head cocked, his ears quirked with humor. “And how was fucking Obi-Wan a help to my cause?”

Dooku stuttered for a moment, flailing for an answer, but Yoda cut him off. “Fucking Anakin you probably were too. Always the weakness for young pretty boys. For my cause you did none of this. For your own personal power did you act.”

Desperation giving way to anger, Dooku snarled at him, “You were always so naïve, thinking that we could make things better. Why shouldn’t I have wanted power? Why should I have wanted to be like the other Jedi, weak, subservient? With the hold I had on Palpatine and with my position as head of a new Jedi Order, I would have had everything.”

Yoda gave him a quizzical look, but didn’t comment on the position Dooku had envisioned himself in. “Naïve am I?” He paused, a smug grin coming to his face. “Showed your hand too quickly, you did, and lost. Often counseled you on patience I did, but never listen would you. But patience I have, and time. Set me back you have, but win I still will.”

Dooku shook his head, confused. 

But Yoda just continued, unperturbed. “Need a new apprentice I will. One who is not so… naïve this time.”

And Dooku finally understood. His face crumpled as he realized that he’d never really known his master. That all his secret plans had been within someone else’s design. “You… you knew what I am, wanted me to be this way. Planned for it.”

The pleasant mask fell away, and Yoda sneered. “Naïve indeed.”

Dooku moved quickly then, diving out of the hut, desperate to escape the confining walls. He turned when he was clear, drawing his lightsaber as Yoda calmly followed him, no weapon in sight. 

The apprentice knew better than to underestimate the master, even without a lightsaber, but he had no choice now but to attack. To defend. “No more games. No more master. If I hadn’t been so blind, I would have done this years ago.” His eyes glowed with malice, with madness. “It is after all the duty of a Sith apprentice to kill his master.”

With a move that was barely visible, Force enhancing an already formidable skill, Dooku leaped at his master, looking to end the fight with one blow. “So die.”

But Yoda wasn’t anywhere the blade was. He leapt away from the blade, keeping ahead of its deadly arc by bouncing off the walls of the hut, off the limbs of nearby trees, even off Dooku himself. 

Dooku tried to follow, tried to strike him down, but he was panting, tired, hurting, never fully recovered from the damage that Obi-Wan’s shot had done him, from the long fall after. He was flagging, slowing down, and he knew then that he couldn’t win. His only chance was escape.

With that thought, Dooku brought a nearby log flying, sending it crashing into Yoda, knocking him back into the wall. Yoda slid down it, face dazed, a small trickle of blood running down one bent ear.

Dooku hesitated a moment, wondering if he should press his attack now that Yoda was down, but instinct made him turn and run. His ship was close, and he was in the hatchway in a moment, using a quick Force push to start the door closing.

The door shut with a clang, and Dooku sighed, feeling his close escape.

He was moving toward the cockpit, intent on getting as far away from Dagobah as possible, when he heard the snap and hiss of a lightsaber cutting through metal. He turned, horribly unsurprised by the sight of a green blade glowing in the door’s center, the metal melting away around it.

Dooku stood, blade poised as he waited for Yoda to appear. He attacked even as his master came flying through the hole in the door, but it wasn’t enough, Yoda’s blade slicing down, cutting through flesh, Dooku’s blade and hand both dropping away.

Resigned, shock and fear shutting down his defenses, Dooku looked into the face that so many loved, revered, and regretted how naïve he’d been.

Then his legs followed his hand, and he was down, for once looking up into Yoda’s face. There was no anger there, just a happy little grin that faded as Dooku’s sight did.

Yoda left the ship in a more sedate way than he’d arrived, humming to himself again as he felt the last of Dooku pass away. He went back to his hut, stirring the pot again, pleased that it hadn’t burned while it’d been unattended.

He sat down to eat, as hungry as only fighting could make him. And while he ate, he thought about his plans for the future. So many of his plans had come to naught, but he’d always suspected that he’d made a mistake in choosing Dooku. He hadn’t planned enough for the man’s excesses. But the mark of wisdom was learning from your mistakes, and he would choose better next time. 

Not all Jedi were happy with the way things were going. And not all padawans were happy with their masters. He smiled, new plans already forming in his mind.

::::::::::

There was a quarter moon casting its pale light through the window, warring weakly with the darkness surrounding the still figures on the bed.

The peace was shattered in an instant, as the men on the bed were moving, sitting up, gasping for breath against the shock of sudden awakening, against the shock of the Force-given warning they’d had.

Qui-Gon slowed his racing heart, years of practice making the release of the shock back to the Force easy for him. “He’s dead.” He knew that Obi-Wan was already aware of it, could feel it jangling along the bond, but he couldn’t help saying it anyway. Nor the corollary that was a balm to his own rattled nerves. “So it ends.”

Obi-Wan was still struggling for breath, still struggling against what he’d seen. What he was seeing. Eventually vision was drowned out by shadow and moonlight, by the sound of Qui-Gon’s even breathing beside him. “No, Master. So it begins again.”

/story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan says it begins again. However, micehell says that's enough. ;)


End file.
